


Angel in England

by Moonslippers



Category: Miss Marple - Agatha Christie
Genre: But do comment if you enjoy it, F/M, Fluff and Angst, For those of you who have seen the show she's in, No I'm not sure what I was thinking, Random idea that I began writing about, This is based off of Joan Hickson's Miss Marple, Yes there are angels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:45:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3179150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonslippers/pseuds/Moonslippers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young angel finds her way to the small village of St. Mary Mead to begin her first job ever: becoming a Guardian to none other than Inspector Slack! Along the way she meets a curious old woman who gives her advice, a home and friendship during the happy and sad times that meet her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just to give my readers a heads-up: This is my very first work of fanfiction. I transferred this from Fanfiction.net after it got nice reviews from there and am trying it here to see if it gets the same amount of positive feedback. I'm only posting the first chapter, so if you like it, please leave me comments and I will add more!

It was a beautiful day in St. Mary Mead: The most beautiful one she had ever seen. The village was alive with people bustling around with their morning business. Women were doing their shopping while men drove carts with shaggy horses clip-clopping contently over the paved roads. The young, elegant blonde woman standing by the side of the wide road took in these sights with an excited smile, clutching the small handbag she held as if for dear life. The sun felt wonderful on her back, allowing one to be completely at ease. Still she found herself shaking ever so slightly in her light, burgundy dress, for today was incredibly symbolic and would determine the course of the rest of her life. She sorely hoped everything would work out for the best. However, after hearing a description of the man she was to be a guardian for, she began to highly doubt things would work out the way she wished.

A woman bent with age tottering across the street from the blonde found herself stopping in the middle of her errands to study this new face. She had never seen this woman before. She seemed too beautiful to be of English stock, she thought rather caustically. In fact she looked positively Welsh, perhaps even American. Whatever she turned out to be, the poor young filly did not seem accustomed to the way things were done in England by the state of her. Her long honey-gold hair was completely undone, hanging down to her mid-back, the old woman guessed. The dress she wore was lovely but not made by any tailor she knew within the village. The blonde turned her soft, mint-green eyes toward the old woman studying her and managed to show her a dazzling smile. The old woman smiled back and decided in that instant to make this girl's acquaintance, for the woman knew everyone in this village and if this young girl was here to stay then she must get to know her. The blonde seemed astonished to see a stranger crossing the street in a beeline toward her, but she kept very still and maintained a small welcoming smile on her face.

"Good morning, my dear. I could not help but notice that you are new to these parts," the woman said to the blonde, bowing her head slightly. The girl nodded and smiled.

"You are right, ma'am, I am new here. And I'm afraid I'm rather lost as well. I wonder if you could help me, miss-?"

"Ah, Marple, dear. Forgive me my rudeness. I shall try to be of service to you the best that I can," Miss Marple said, giving the blonde another smile.

"How do you do, Miss Marple? My name is Anya. I wonder if you know where an Inspector Slack lives? I really must find him."

"Oh? Inspector Slack?" A rather sly smile came to the old woman's face and she let out a chuckle. "Oh, I know him very well, my dear. He never mentioned to me that he knew such a beautiful young woman. How mysterious of him. Yes, yes, I know him well, though I'm afraid we are not entirely on the best of terms. I do believe he thinks me a nuisance as I am frequently at the sight of many of his cases and attempt to help him solve them. I do believe he thinks me rather nosy," she chuckled. The girl called Anya smiled and found that she rather liked this old woman from the start. She was an oddity compared to what she had seen and heard from other English women. Anya was quite pleased with this change from the witnessed norm.

"It is a rather strange thing to say, but he has never seen me before. Today will be our first meeting," Anya found herself admitting to the woman. Miss Marple seemed surprised.

"Is that so? Well, I can't imagine what prompted this sudden meeting, but it is none of my concern anyhow. Yes, I shall take you to the county police station. He may be out working a case. But if he isn't, the station is the only other place we would find him other than his home, I expect. Though I must admit I do not know where he lives. Well come now, dear, let us be off."

"Oh, I am very thankful to you, Miss Marple. I do apologize for interrupting your morning errands." Miss Marple waved her apologies off, tut-tutting her for her worries.

"Nonsense, dear, this is intriguing business. I was not on a very important errand anyway. I must tell you that I will be very pleased to see the surprise on his face at seeing me again," she chuckled. "He is never quite pleased to see me, but we do get along in our own way. Yes, my dear, you have brought me great pleasure," she assured. Anya smiled and took Miss Marple's arm, allowing the woman to direct her toward the station.

As it was not the shortest of walks, Miss Marple looped her arm through Anya's and took the opportunity to begin telling her about the history of St. Mary Mead, everything from when the first store was built to when automobiles began clogging the streets more than carts and wagons, and even when she remembered the first pavement being laid down to cover the dirt roads. Anya listened attentively, intrigued despite herself. She may as well learn about this place as she would be staying with this new man Inspector Slack. Well, of course, if he would let her. If not, she would still be his guardian, but she would have to stay in the background rather than the forefront.

Anya thought about her life up until this point as Miss Marple prattled on about the village. Anya was an angel though not your typical one. She had wings, but not a halo like humans imagined in their folktales. No angel in Heaven had a halo but did have wings that were twice the size of their bodies to allow them to fly quickly and carry twice their own weight if needed. And they were not delicate creatures, flitting about as children like human versions sometimes portrayed. The forms they called "cupids" always confused her.

No, angels were fierce warriors of the skies. An angel who could not fight was deemed relatively worthless, and only just if they could manage to heal adequately. All angels could heal, of course, but there were those that possessed more skill in that field than others. Anya had no such skills in either department. She was not a skilled fighter, though she had passed all of her defense classes, and only just barely. She could heal, though needed real practice in the art as she was easily distracted and had not quite developed a good focus technique needed for the task. All in all, she was a rather lousy angel. Her kindness exceeded all others and she was well-liked despite her weaknesses, which seemed only a small recompense for all the problems her fellow angels enjoyed reminding her that she was at the center of.

Her mother was not at all happy to find out that her daughter was not even close to the angel she had hoped for. In order to please her, Anya decided to take up the task of becoming a Guardian, hoping it would increase her standing within her mother's eyes. Inspector Slack had been chosen randomly for her by the high Archangels, and so she had come to England and this small village to find and inform him of the arrangement. She could have been an invisible Guardian for their humans like many other angels chose, but she had decided that for her purposes, staying visible and being accepted by her human companion would bring greater pleasure to her mother. And so she decided to come down to the earth in a frail human form, her wings remaining invisible to all who saw her.  
Now everything came down to her convincing this Inspector Slack of her being what she claimed. She did not know how she would go about trying to prove this fact to him but she would have to think of something for this to work. Her attention was diverted to Miss Marple as she realized that they had suddenly stopped and she had nearly pulled the poor woman from her feet.

"Forgive me, I am so sorry! I was off in my own thoughts, I did not intend to nearly knock you over!"

"Now, now, don't work yourself into a tizzy, dear. I understand completely for I do that now and again myself. Here we are at the police station. Since you are back from your thoughts, shall we go in?" she asked, smiling sympathetically. Anya smiled back and bobbed her head up and down fervently. Miss Marple nodded decidedly and started up the short flight of stairs to the white-splashed brick building crouching in front of them, a black placard announcing that they had reached the headquarters of the 'County Police'. The pair narrowly avoided being bowled over by a policewoman as she charged out of the front doors, apologizing profusely as she ran from a shouting voice that sounded like a very angry man. Was that the man she was supposed to meet? Anya wondered briefly, inwardly cringing at the vehemence behind that voice. Miss Marple saw the small cringe on the girl's face and pitied her. The poor child did not know what she was getting herself into.

They walked through the front doors into a madhouse. Police men and women were running to and fro whilst in the middle a tall man clad in a tight black suit with a high forehead and rather long pointed nose shouted at them indiscriminately, ordering them to do this and that, call this person and that person, don't do this or that. Anya looked to Miss Marple and saw the old woman jerk her head in the direction of the shouting man, looking at her knowingly. Anya's eyes widened. The shouting man was her human! Dearest mother, how was she supposed to pull this one off?

"Oh dear," she found herself saying. "He seems rather busy. Perhaps now is not a good time." Her voice quivered as she spoke and she couldn't help but feel like a complete coward in that instant. Her mother would be furious at seeing her in such a state! But what could she do? She was frightened of this man that she was supposed to be here to protect! And she hadn't even met him yet. At this point in time she didn't even think he needed an angel. He could scare any attacker off by just glaring with those wicked eyes!

The terror on the girl's face made Miss Marple feel rather badly about bringing her here. Poor dear, she knew absolutely nothing about the inspector, did she? What was she here for anyway? It couldn't be personal business. Who would have personal business with Inspector Slack? He was completely manic in her mind, a strict man who made everyone around him stressed and unhappy. Suddenly Miss Marple heard her name being called and looked up to see that the inspector was now heading for them. The girl beside her stiffened and Miss Marple could see her hands shaking ever so slightly.

"Good morning, Miss Marple. What business do you have here?" The tall dark man stopped in front of them, his eyes passing from the old woman to Anya, sizing her up quickly. His address was sharp and business-like. He seemed a man that had no time for laughter or fun things, Anya thought. Oh, why was he the one chosen for her?

"Good morning, Chief Inspector." Miss Marple, as usual, was not flustered by his brisk attitude, but seemed accepting of it as she had many times before heard and become accustomed to his brusque mannerisms. "This girl here asked me to take her to you. Her name is Anya and she told me she wished to see you."

"Yes?" The inspector's dark eyes shifted from Miss Marple to Anya and she suddenly found her deep green eyes captured by those dark irises as they seemed to probe into her very soul. This man was not to be trifled with and obviously was not one to believe in such mythical-sounding things as angels. She found herself opening and closing her mouth like a fish gasping for air out of water, and quickly tried to pull herself together as she saw his bushy eyes brows draw down with obvious impatience.

"Ch-Chief Inspector Slack. May I speak with you privately, please?" she asked. It was better to talk with him alone without even Miss Marple around. He must be the only one to hear what she had to say to him.

He seemed to hesitate a fraction of a second before nodding curtly and stepping aside, holding his arm out to direct her to a small room that she assumed was his office. She looked back at Miss Marple and thanked her quickly before moving off in front of the inspector so as not to keep him waiting any longer. She entered the small room and waited for him to come in behind and shut the heavy oak door. She nearly expected it to sound like the closing of a tomb as the cumbersome door swung slowly on its hinges. He motioned for her to take a seat in the straight-backed padded chair in front of his desk and she did so, noticing that the shaking of her hands had become more pronounced as the time got closer for her confession. He sat down in an expansive black armchair behind the desk and rested his elbows on the surface, his piercing eyes pinning her to the chair as he watched her compose herself.

"What is this about, miss Anya? Do you have something to report?" She took a deep breath to compose herself and began.

"I have something of that nature, yes, Chief Inspector. You see, this may be hard for you to believe, but I am an angel. I was sent to be your Guardian and to stay with and protect you for as long as I am able." She stopped abruptly, seeing first surprise and then anger cross the inspector's face as his eye brows drew sharply together.

"Do you take me for a fool, miss? Is this some sort of practical joke? An angel? I do not even know you and you are supposed to be this, what, Guardian? And I am supposed to let you, what, stand at my back like a bodyguard all the time while I go about my business? That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, and I have heard plenty in my time, I assure you. You may go, miss. I have no time for this nonsense." He stood quickly to open the door for her and she felt crushed for the first time in her life.

"Chief Inspector, please! I know this is difficult for you to believe but I cannot fail in this mission, I mustn't fail! Please, if there's anything I can do to prove to you-"

"I've heard enough! Please leave my office. I have actual work to do and normal people to interview. Good day to you, miss." He held the door open, staring her down as she opened her mouth for another plea. She snapped it shut as she saw the closed look of complete disbelief in his eyes. It was no good for the moment. He was not receptive to anything and could not be reasoned with at this time. She would have to be persistent in having him accept her as his angel. This would not be the last meeting. She would continue in her mission until she had thoroughly convinced him of her sincerity.

"Very well, Chief Inspector. Good day to you." She bowed her head to hide the sudden tears that had jumped to her eyes and hurried from his office toward the front doors. She lifted her head just in time to see Miss Marple stand up from the row of chairs off to the side, and worried at the reason the old woman had stayed.

"My dear, what happened? You were only in there for a few minutes! What on earth did you say to make him kick you out so soon?" Anya shook her head and apologized quickly to the old woman as she hurried out the front door and down the steps. She stopped once she reached the sidewalk and looked from left to right. Now what? she thought. She had nowhere to go, no money to buy food or lodgings for the night or however long it would take to convince the inspector. She was overcome with a sudden feeling of helplessness and covered her face with her hands in an attempt to stop the tears from falling.

"Oh dear, why don't you come with me? You don't look so well." Miss Marple was at her elbow directing her to the left and to wherever she was taking her.

"I thank you, Miss Marple, but I must go. I need to think about what I need to do now."

"This is not the last time you will approach him, is it?" Anya shook her head. Miss Marple sighed and continued to lead the girl down the sidewalk. "You will come to my house for tea, dear, and you will tell me everything, including why you're here and why you must see the Chief Inspector."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly. It is supposed to be a private matter kept between he and I-"

"My dear, right now whatever you have to say to him is falling upon deaf ears. So why not speak to ears that are willing to listen, and to an old woman who may have some advice for you?" Anya couldn't help but smile and allowed the old woman to lead her back to her home. Should she tell this woman everything? Miss Marple was different from anyone else Anya had spoken to in England, and seemed genuinely willing to help her. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt for the old woman to listen to her tale.

Nearly an hour later the two women were inside Miss Marple's quaint little brick house and being served tea by a sweet and plump maid-in-training named Bessie. Anya began her story slowly at the encouragement of Miss Marple, and soon she was pouring her life story out to the old woman, ending the tale with why she was on earth in the first place and why it was Chief Inspector Slack whom she needed so desperately to see. When she had finished the old woman sat there speechless, lost in thought, her watery eyes staring off into the small fire dancing beside her in the fireplace. After what seemed like hours she turned back to the young desperate girl sitting across from her and smiled. For whatever reason, she believed completely in this young woman's wild angel tale. She certainly looked like Marple's vision of an angel.

"I think you have a very difficult journey ahead of you, my dear. Inspector Slack is not a man to believe in such things as angels, as I'm sure you've learned already. Something must be done to convince him, but what exactly? That is the problem. Once he is convinced, I am sure he will accommodate you. In the meantime, you may stay here for as long as it takes."

"Oh, Miss Marple, I couldn't possibly-" She held up a wrinkled hand, silencing the girl swiftly.

"You will stay here and keep an old woman company while you figure out how to deal with your problems. And I shall help you with them, certainly. More tea, dear?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After seeing that this actually got some hits, I'm going ahead and posting the second chapter. Enjoy!

    The next day, Anya was out shopping with Miss Marple when she saw Chief Inspector Slack speeding by in a police car with a strange man sitting beside him. She stopped and stared as the car raced down the street, beeping at carts and other automobiles to get out of its way. Through the window she caught sight of the inspector looking at her, probably attempting to figure out her mystery. Or wondering how mad she actually was. Perhaps he was even deliberating if he should have her sent to an institution. He was gone in the next instant, racing away to some crime scene in the country, completely unaware that he was leaving his angel behind when she should be by him at all times for protection.  She sighed and followed Miss Marple into the small shop.  

    Marple turned to see Anya following after a fashion, the angel appearing worn and dejected. She placed a hand on the young woman's arm to reassure her. "Everything will work out fine in the end, my dear, you'll see." Anya looked at her and cracked a small smile.

    "I just saw him come by in a car and stare most suspiciously, as if he thought he was looking at the world's biggest loony," she whispered, clasping her hands together in front of her. Miss Marple smiled.

    "Perhaps he was admiring your dress, dear, and wondering why he had turned down so beautiful a woman, such that he will never see again in all his days. It suits you well, my dear." Anya smiled and glanced down at the dress Miss Marple had given her. It was an old dress that the woman had kept from her younger days, a lovely periwinkle blue that was a bit dated for Anya's tastes, but nonetheless seemed to compliment her nicely. She certainly had been receiving stares from a number of men she had seen that morning as the pair made their way around the town to complete the woman's morning errands. Miss Marple had wrapped her hair into a loose bun on the top of her head, having been rather surprised at the state of her long hair hanging loose yesterday the first time they met.  

    "The country may be changing, Anya, but some things are still the same regarding a woman's attire.  I have seen more and more women growing out their hair and leaving it loose, but I still like the idea of keeping one's hair back," she had said. Anya had let her do what she would with her hair, wrapping it into the bun and then making two thin braids to wrap around the back, giving her a rather distinguished look as if her station in life were higher than it was. She had thought to argue, but Marple had been insistent on what she wished the end result to be. 

    "There is no cause for an angel to look like a beggar woman," she had said, swiftly quelling any opposition from Anya. 

    They were not five minutes within the small store when the old woman let out a small cry of "Oh!" and turned swiftly, nearly knocking Anya from her feet. 

    "What is it, Miss Marple?" she asked, grabbing the woman beneath her arms to keep her on her feet. 

    "Forgive me, dear, but I just had a thought on what you should do. Yes, that would do nicely. Here, give me that basket," she said, taking the small wicker basket full of bread and cakes from Anya's arm and placing it over her own. "Now, Anya, you shall follow the inspector from now on whenever he goes on a case, especially a potentially dangerous one. You need to be by him in case sudden dangers reveal themselves, yes? Then you must be on hand if something happens, and by being there and showing him what you can do, you will be sure to convince him of the sincerity in your words. Now by flying you should be able to overtake his automobile quickly. Is there something you can do to prevent anyone from seeing you fly?" Anya nodded.

    "In a way. I have retained the power to hide my wings from most humans. But they will not be shielded from anyone who believes in angels. If anyone else should look up however, they would see a woman soaring over them without any means of flight." She smiled slightly as she wondered what the possible expressions on the faces of such people would be. It would frighten them, no doubt, but she rather thought their looks of astonishment would make her laugh forever. Miss Marple nodded in her business-like manner and shooed the angel off, neatly shoving her out of the small store. 

    "Once you are finished, come back to the house and relate to me all that has happened. Promise me you shall do this, Anya," she called after her. The angel waved back, reassuring her that she would do just as the old woman asked. Marple smiled and headed back into the store, a small spring in her step as she began her long wait to see how this plan of hers would work out. She hoped the poor angel would succeed in convincing the stern inspector of her sincerity. It would not take two or three times, but very likely more than she would like to count for him to accept the captivating blonde woman into his life.  

    As Marple was thinking on how everything would play out, Anya was ducking behind a building and surveying her surroundings. Once aloft, she would have to dart above the clouds as quick as she could to prevent anyone from seeing her. Who knew what would happen if a passerby saw a woman soaring into the sky with nothing to propel her? What would the newspapers be like? 

    She smiled once more as she thought of the possible reactions and let her large wings spread out to either side, stretching them from their cramped and folded position. She flapped a few times, testing the wind, and looked around self-consciously to be sure that no eyes were on her. Satisfied, she bent her knees and thrust down hard with her wings, launching herself feet into the air. The wind immediately tousled her hair and she felt the bun coming undone. Soon she was too lost in the feeling of flying again that she ignored the loosening bun and allowed herself a brief spell of blissful ignorance as she leveled out above a thin layer of clouds, the chilled air bringing goosebumps to her flesh. She flew slowly through the skies, soaring high above the few trees dotting the sides of the now-tiny village of St. Mary Mead beneath her. 

    The honking of a horn suddenly caught her attention and she lowered herself through a parting between the clouds in an attempt to not drench herself before the meeting she had planned. She peered down in the direction of the sound. It did not take long for her to see what the source was. Inspector Slack's black police car was caught behind a slow-moving tractor pulling a wagon piled high with hay from the field it had just lumbered from. Anya rose above the clouds once more, staying true to her current path to avoid losing the inspector. It was almost dull flying so slowly to keep in line with the car but Anya relished in the feeling that flying woke within her. 

    The vehicle and the angel stayed on the same road for some time before a sign announcing the upcoming entrance to a Fox Hall had the driver turning to the left down a gravel drive that led straight for a few hundred yards before rounding a languid corner. Anya dipped down below the clouds and hovered just above the forest lining the driveway, her eyes peering past the slow-moving car toward the magnificent sight that had just appeared before her. Sprawled out across an impossibly green and manicured lawn was one of the most beautiful homes Anya had ever seen before. The manor house was composed of two materials, the most abundant being stone. Brick chimneys stretched from the dark roof, smoke rising lazily into the still air. Wrought iron handrails framed a red brick stairway leading to the elaborate walnut front doors. If one man were to stand on the other, they could potentially touch the top of that monstrous entryway. In the gravel driveway that circled around a bubbling fountain displaying one of the deceptive cupids that angels were mistaken for, there were two police cars with four officers standing to the side awaiting their Chief Inspector.  

    Anya dove beneath the canopy just before the forest ended, allowing the car to continue on without her toward the others while she began to study the scene before her. A frazzled-looking brunette woman appeared just as the inspector stepped from the vehicle and ran straight for his lean figure, squealing and crying about her dead husband found in the library and asking who had done this terrible thing to him? Who would want to kill her quiet, well-mannered husband? He had no enemies, no! No one she knew of would want to hurt him, so why was he lying in a puddle of his own blood? Oh please, Inspector, could he help her, please? 

    "Rest assured, ma'am, that we are going to do everything we can to find out what happened to your husband," he recited in a bored tone, brushing past the wailing woman with disinterest, his eyes poised ahead on the crime scene that lay inside the grand building.  

    Anya landed and peeked out from the trees just as the last officer was entering the manor house. Satisfied that she would not be disturbed, she reached up to fix her hair, combing her fingers through her thick blonde locks before wrestling it into a version of the bun Miss Marple had so painstakingly arranged that morning. She smoothed her dress once she was finished and folded her wings against her back, reaching back to groom a few rumpled feathers back into place. She took a deep breath and fisted her hands at her side. It was time to stop being a child and take matters into her own hands. 

    She stalked from the forest with an air of determination, her path leading her straight up to the doors of the manor house. She grabbed one of the cold bronze knockers and banged it three times against the walnut. She waited impatiently, fidgeting with her hair and dress until the sound of someone turning the doorknob halted her self-conscious actions. She put on an air of authority as soon as the door opened and she was faced with the butler. He was an aged man with large glasses framing piercing gray eyes. They clung to a large hawk-like nose with bulging purple veins that stood out starkly against his pale skin. He was dressed smartly in a pressed suit, perfectly groomed for such a luxurious mansion as this. He looked her up and down and pulled his lips into a polite smile that completed his proud figure. 

    "What can I do for you, madam?" he asked regally, peering at her curiously. She smiled brilliantly and was pleased to see a blush creep up his neck. 

    "Good day, sir. I'm afraid I've come later than expected, but I am here with Chief Inspector Slack. My name is Anya Horsfall. I am a licensed psychologist working with Scotland Yard. I have been assigned to assist the Chief Inspector in his interviews," she said, the lie slipping easily from her tongue. The butler appeared nonplussed. He shook his head and gathered his senses in the next instant, stepping aside for her as he bowed. 

    "Please, do come in, Miss Horsfall. I will take you to the Chief Inspector."

    "Oh please, you're too kind. I can find him. I'm sure you have plenty of work to do and I would not dream of interrupting. Please, where is he located?" The butler smiled. 

    "Ah, right down this hall, madam. He's in the drawing room, on the right at the end." He pointed and she followed his finger. She smiled and touched his elbow lightly.

    "Thank you very much, sir. And your name?" He looked astonished. 

    "Oliver, madam," he replied. 

    "Thank you, Oliver. I hope we shall meet again?" She turned and was on her way before he could think of anything else to say and he stared at her as she walked down the hall, admiring her figure and character all in one. He shook his head and hurried to close the front door. 

    Anya walked purposefully down the hall, appearing as if she belonged with the police hurrying through the house. Officers were walking back and forth from a room to her left she assumed held the dead man while two servants rushed into the sitting room further down the hall carrying trays laden with tea and cakes to satisfy the family waiting within. She hurried past the sitting room to where she heard a sudden distinctive shout and found the drawing room door standing slightly ajar. She peered through the crack, finding the inspector with ease speaking with one of the family members, an officer beside him scribbling notes as the inspector interrogated the young man. As the brunette detective looked up Anya quickly pulled her head back from the crack in the door, thinking about what she must do now. She would have to wait till the inspector sent both men away. This was certainly a dilemma. 

    Footsteps sounded behind her suddenly and she nearly jumped out of her skin as she realized they were approaching her. She turned with a smile to the officer coming toward her. 

    "Inspector Slack is in the middle of interviews now. Can I help you?" he asked. She waved him off. 

    "No, no, certainly not. I will wait for him to finish. My name is Anya Horsfall. I'm a licensed psychologist partnering with Scotland Yard in cases. The inspector is aware I am coming. If you could, would you be so kind as to tell him that there is someone who would like to speak with him privately for a moment?" The man nodded.

    "Certainly, madam. It'll be just a moment." He knocked on the door, waiting for the inspector's attention before he eased it open and stepped inside. "Sir, it seems that something in the room has been touched. The evidence suggests that the man was typing something but we cannot find any paper," the man reported. Inspector Slack growled and glared at the trembling young man seated before him. 

    "Was there someone else in the room beside your mother and sisters? Did any one of you touch a paper that was in the typewriter?" The young man shook his head quickly, clearly frightened of the inspector.

    "N-No, sir, nothing was touched except for Father. Mother ran to him screeching and hugged his body and nearly dragged him out of his chair had we not stopped her in time! I didn't take any paper from the typewriter and I don't think either of my sisters did either. My cousin Fannie wouldn't want anything to do with a paper he was typing up either, I think. I just don't know, Inspector." Slack nodded dismissively and then shook his head in exasperation, his eye brows drawn together to form deep frown lines.    
  

 "Lake!" he suddenly bellowed. The officer taking notes beside him jumped and stared expectantly at the inspector. "Go see what you can make of this missing evidence and make sure there was supposed to be a piece of paper there. Question every officer that has been in the room and the servants as well. And you, go get your cousin and tell her I must ask her some questions."

    "Ah, and sir?" The officer got Slack's attention once more. Anya stood still as Office Lake and the man Slack was interrogating slipped out and hurried off in their respective directions, hardly noticing her outside of the door. 

    "Yes?" Slack barked. Anya held her breath.

    "There is a woman outside the door who claims that she needs to speak with you in private, sir."

    "What woman? I haven't summoned any woman. Did she say her name?" The man chuckled lightly, his voice lowering. 

    "Ah, well, I don't remember exactly. She did say she was a psychologist working with Scotland Yard." 

    "A psychologist? What the hell do I need with one of those? What use are you that you can't even remember a simple name? Bring her in! I'll speak with her for a moment and send her packing." Luck at last! She straightened as the first officer slowly stepped from the door and nodded to her, smiling nervously.

    "It's best you don't stay in there too long, madam. The Chief Inspector is rather stressed at the moment." She beamed at him. 

    "Thank you, sir. I'll keep that in mind." She strode past him and entered, being sure to close the door behind her. Slack's back was to her as he shuffled through the notes that Lake had left behind. He murmured to himself, unaware that she stood behind him. He did not look up until he heard the click of the lock behind him, the sound strange in the stillness of the expansive drawing room. He turned slowly and his dark eyes alighted on her. His expression turned sour.

    "You again? I should have known you'd be this mysterious woman. My officers are too easily fooled," he grumbled unhappily. She smiled at his exasperated sigh. "You can forget the reason you came here. I will not listen to the ravings of a madwoman again." He waved her off, turning back to his papers.      

    "Forgive me, Inspector, but after my cold reception yesterday I decided I must try another way to prove to you that what I say is true. I am your Guardian, sent to be your protector. Your bodyguard, if you will, until the end of your days.  And please forgive my attire, I must look a shambles after my flight. I followed you in your car and stayed with you the whole drive here." She reached up to take down her hair, allowing the waves of soft honey gold tumble down to the middle of her back. "I am offering to give you proof, Inspector. Keep me in the room with you while you interrogate the family and I shall be able to tell you if they are speaking the truth or not." 

    Throughout her whole speech the inspector had been strangely quiet, but as soon as she finished speaking he seemed to fly off the handle into a rage. He spun angrily, hearing enough from her. 

    "You dare come in here and tell me how to do my job and who I should have in here with me while I am interrogating people to find out who committed this murder?  I do not approve of your actions, barging into my crime scene and telling me how I should do things-!"

    "Inspector!" The sharpness in her voice cut him short, and he stared at her in mute fury, surprised at the interruption despite himself. She could see his hands shaking, he was so angry. She took a deep breath, surprising herself with her own outburst, but she was desperate for his acceptance at this point and had no time for his raging. 

    "Please, Inspector, I am not here to tell you how to do anything. I simply wish to prove to you that I am who and what I say. I am asking you to give me a chance and to open your mind to the possibility that there are things that you don't believe in that are around nevertheless. I am not going away. It is my mission to be your guardian, Inspector, so it is better for you to accept this fact now rather than allowing me to continue in my pestering. What do you say?" She placed her hands on her hips, locking his dark eyes in her own intense gaze.

    "Chief Inspector!" A knocking came at the door and someone attempted to turn the handle only to find the door locked. "Inspector, we heard shouting! Are you all right? Why is the door locked? Sir? Sir!" 

    "Quiet out there, I'm fine!" Slack barked, silencing the man outside. His eyes found Anya's again, pinning her to the door. "Do as you like, miss. You may stay while I interrogate, but I don't want a single word from you. Do you understand?" he snapped. She smiled graciously and gave him a rather flamboyant bow.  

    "Of course, Inspector. I am happy to oblige you." She turned the lock in the door and stepped back as the man outside showed himself. It was the tall brunette man called Lake. He found Anya standing by the door and turned a questioning look from her to the inspector. 

    "Who is this woman, sir?" Lake looked again at the woman before him. Slack opened his mouth to respond when Anya interrupted quickly. She smiled disarmingly at the sergeant. 

    "My name is Anya Horsfall, sir. I am a psychologist from London, here for a study that involves the science of the mind with the art of interrogation," she lied smoothly, extending her hand to the astounded man. Lake took her hand slowly, looking back at the inspector like a puppy with its tail between its legs, wondering why he would let such a woman into his crime scene and, better yet, why he would let her interrupt him like that without a sharp retort. 

    Inspector Slack stood gravely still, glaring at this stunning blonde with the deep, sage green eyes. What could she hope to gain by performing these little tricks for him? Was this some strange way of hers to let him know that she fancied him? He didn't know this woman! And she obviously did not know him if she thought he would believe in such poppycock as angels coming to earth to be guardians for human beings. Who had ever heard of such a thing? 

    Slack noticed that Lake still looked unsure, and so nodded absently in his direction. "Everything's fine, Lake. She is cleared to be here throughout my interrogations. And speaking of that, where is that woman I sent the son to find? That Fannie, what's-her-name?" 

    "Gates, sir." A young brunette woman stepped into the room behind Lake, astonishing him into moving to the side quickly for her to enter the drawing room. "Forgive me for being late. My aunt is very much weakened and disheartened by this morning's events that I was loath to leave her side, sir, but she urged me to come anyway."  
    

"Very well, madam. Take a seat, please. And you, miss, you take this chair. Lake, find another seat for yourself and be quick about it!" Lake hurried to grab a lush wing-backed chair from the other side of the room, rushing back just as Anya seated herself on the armchair he had recently vacated. 

    "Forgive me for claiming your seat, sir," she apologized as he sat down with his notepad. He smiled and shook his head.

    "No matter, madam. I'm ready whenever you are, sir." 

    "Right." Slack glanced once at Anya and, upon seeing her slight nod of approval and her irritatingly-gleeful smile, he began his barrage of questions to the woman. He repeated everything he had asked her cousin with the addition of the newly found evidence missing from her uncle's typewriter. Anya was soon focused entirely on the woman, hanging on her every word, allowing her senses to give her any subtle hint they could as to whether or not she was lying. She watched for physical signs such as facial expressions, using the knowledge that her mother had taught her to pick up on any hints of deceit. As the interrogation came to a close, Anya was forced to come to the conclusion that the young cousin Fannie was not lying about her answers. When Slack looked at her with both eye brows raised, she slowly shook her head. He sighed heavily and sent the woman back into the sitting room for one of the sisters. 

    One by one the rest of the family members entered the room, and one after another Anya shook her head slowly to let an irked Slack know that, unfortunately, no one had told a lie so far. It was only during the interrogation of the last family member, the mother, that made Anya's suspicions rose. During those questions pertaining to where the woman had been during the time of the murder, the stiff-backed woman kept insisting that she was nowhere near her husband in the library but that, instead, she was out in the garden pulling a few weeds. After that, she had retreated into the house to change out of her muddy clothes. The woman suddenly started wailing something fierce and Lake was forced to call a servant to get her some water, and he and the manservant helped the woman from the room to calm her before the interrogation could continue. Slack sighed heavily and slapped at the back of the chair the woman had just vacated. 

    "Well?" he bellowed, causing Anya to nearly jump from her seat as he suddenly advanced upon her, slamming both hands down on the arms of her chair as he leaned over her, bringing his eyes down to the level of her own. "We've been through everyone in the family now. Have any of them been lying to me, or are you going to tell me that you cannot tell and beg me to give you another chance?" he snapped, his eyes wild. 

    Anya was quite taken aback by his sudden advancement but quickly composed herself once more. She managed a small smile, catching the aggravated man off guard. 

    "I have wonderful news for you, Inspector. The mother was lying about her whereabouts. She was not in the garden and she was certainly not far from her husband's library," she said calmly. He harrumphed and slowly straightened, a sudden smile curling his lips. 

    "Is that right? Well, if you are right, I will be forced to take what you told me earlier into consideration. I shall know just how to entice her to answer me truthfully. Stay in the room and stop me at any time that you catch her lying." She nodded, too ecstatic to attempt to answer him verbally.  He advanced toward the open door, his eyes wide with excitement. 

    "Lake! Is she ready yet?" he shouted out the open door, and quickly got everyone back into the room to continue with the interrogation. 

    He questioned the woman up and down, left and right, trying to catch her in a lie using careful words to confuse her. She was a cunning and dangerous woman, Anya knew now for sure. A few times she was caught in a lie and when Slack looked to her for conformation, Anya would give one curt nod and elicit a half-smile from him in return for her services. These rewards she greatly enjoyed. Her progress this day would be great by many standards and she already could not wait to get back to Miss Marple's house and tell her everything that had happened.  

    Slack whittled the woman down to nothing but bare nerves and in no time at all had a full confession from her. She ranted about how the man ignored her and had lost hundreds of pounds gambling. The paper she had taken from the typewriter was a bill of sale for her favorite diamond necklace, valued at over two hundred pounds. Her husband was selling it to help pay for all f the debts he had accumulated. She had killed him and destroyed it before it could ever fall into the hands of the interested party.

At the great distress of her children and niece, she was hauled off to jail while the body of her poor husband was wrapped up and sent to the funeral home for the proper arrangements. Anya stayed behind with the family members, calming the three siblings and their cousin Fannie as best she could in their state of great sorrow. The siblings had lost both parents in one dreadful day and she was attempting to console the poor souls. She sat with them, cried with them, held their hands and told them that their father would forever be watching and that he would be proud. 

    "He would wish you all to live fulfilling lives taking into account everything that he has ever taught you," she finished. Her efforts obtained instant friends in the whole family. Anna, Adele and Fannie invited her to come visit them again with the acceptance of the brother, Ron. After assuring that she would stop by with Miss Marple that Saturday to take tea with them, she hastened from the sitting room and the beautiful house to begin her journey back to Miss Marple's small cottage. 

    She hurried out the front doors, smiling sweetly at the blushing butler Oliver who held the door for her, and wrapped her arms around her chest as a sudden gust of wind threatened to tear the periwinkle dress off her very body. 

    "Miss Anya!" 

    She started, pulling strands of hair from her face as she turned to see none other than Inspector Slack trotting up to her and removing his jacket as he came. He halted by her and slung the black jacket around her shoulders, the warmth of him settling around her like a blanket. 

    "You didn't bring a coat of your own, madam. Didn't you know it would get cooler as the sun set?" he admonished with a frown.

    "Really, Inspector, you must not worry. I am fine, but I thank you anyway. And no, I did not realize this. That is, I have not been in these parts for very long," she said, lifting her eyes to his. He harrumphed and ushered her to the car waiting for him. 

    "Still on that angel nonsense again? I suppose I am inclined to thank you for earlier. You helped in a very tough investigation, and with just the talent of knowing who was lying and who wasn't. I must admit I am in your debt, Miss Horsfall," he grumbled, opening the car door for her. 

    "Please, Inspector, call me Anya," she said. He grumbled and looked away for a moment.

    "The least I can do is give you a lift back to where you are staying," he said, as if playing like he had not heard her. She decided not to comment on his lack of acknowledgment, but instead thanked him most profusely for the lift from the house and stepped into the car. He hurried to the other side and jumped in beside her, Lake having taken the passenger seat in the front. He smiled at her as Slack got in and she smiled back with gaiety. She liked Lake very much, everything from his carefree mannerisms to the way he tolerated Inspector Slack's grating personality superbly.   

    "Now, Miss Anya, where are we taking you?" Slack asked as he situated himself beside her, making sure not to bump her at all in the process. She smiled at his use of her name. She remembered the old woman's words about Inspector Slack when they had first met and smiled all the more.

    "I am staying with a friend for now, Inspector. And, from what she tells me, the both of you are very much acquainted," she began slyly. He glanced at her, cocking an inquiring eye brow.

    "Oh?" Anya found herself giggling.

    "Yes, sir. Her name is Miss Marple." She saw the color slowly filter from his neck to his face as he struggled with his feelings about this newly found information. Anya found herself nearly bursting with laughter. He looked up and seemed even angrier at Anya attempting to control her laughter toward him. "Forgive me, sir, but I don't know the whole of the relationship between you two and so I cannot adequately judge it for myself. I've only heard some of what she has told me about the encounters she has had with you in the past during a few cases of yours."

    "Ah, yes, I'm sure she gloats all day about how she is cleverer than I am," he hissed, propping his chin on his hand as he stared out the window of the car. Anya suddenly felt sorry for this man and her laughter died within her in the same instant. He had a bit more pride than he needed, yes, but she was sure that he had worked very hard to get to where he was now. He was clearly sting by the fact that an old woman like Miss Marple could step in and be more clever than he ever could in his own field. 

    "Inspector," she started gently, turning his attention back toward her as the officer in front began to their long drive back to the village. "Miss Marple is a wonderful woman who just happens to be cleverer than your average person. She has no undeserved pride and does not gloat about her accomplishments to me. She merely related why there was a rift between the two of you in the case I ever witnessed you together and noticed you behaving in a cold manner toward her," she assured. 

    He relaxed visibly and seemed for a minute like he wanted to say something. He refrained, nodding to her once before turning back to the window that suddenly seemed to be so important to him once more. 

    All too soon they were in front of Miss Marple's cottage and Anya dutifully kept her seat with an amused smile as the inspector got out and hurried to her side to open the door. She was able to open it herself, but kept her thoughts muzzled as she let Slack perform the necessaries she was sure was a part of the English customs she would soon have to become used to. It was no good arguing at this point, anyway. 

    The door to the house suddenly opened and Miss Marple herself emerged with an extra coat draped over her arm, hurrying out into the front yard as she saw Anya handing Inspector Slack's coat back to him. 

    "My dear child, I completely forgot to remind you about the cold nights we would be having now. Here, take this. There now, is that better? Very good. Chief Inspector, I really must thank you for driving her back here for me. It is really too kind of you." Slack bowed his head stiffly to the old woman, accepting her thanks with a cool demeanor. She turned then and made her way back to the house, leaving Anya to say her goodbyes.

    She turned to the inspector as he slung his jacket back over himself, pulling it snugly around his straight shoulders. He glanced her way as she took a step toward him and watched almost quizzically as she stretched her hand out to thank him in the way she had seen people do. 

    "Thank you very much for today, Inspector. I quite enjoyed myself, in spite of the fact that a man was murdered.  I do hope we can do this again sometime," she said. He slowly accepted her hand, his palm warm against hers. He shook it twice before releasing it promptly as if it were on fire. He cleared his throat and regarded her solemnly and with much curiosity. She really was not letting go of this fantasy, was she? 

    "Perhaps we can do this another time, yes. I'm sure there will be cases where your, er, expertise will come in handy," he said, slowly moving off to the side of the car. 

    "Do be careful if you go on another case without me," she said earnestly. It shocked him to see genuine concern for his well-being in her eyes, something he had not witnessed from anyone in all his years as a policeman. This woman was dangerous! he reasoned. She always caught him off guard when he least expected it! He shifted his feet, embarrassed, and opened the car door swiftly.  

    "I will be careful. Good night, Miss Anya," he mumbled, just loud enough for her ears before he sat and shut the door, quipping at the driver in his usual barking tone. She caught his eye for an instant before they sped away again, and she couldn't help but smile at all the progress that had been made in that one short day. 

    A sudden gust of wind made her turn and hurry for the door. She entered swiftly and handed the coat to Bessie who suddenly appeared as she made to remove her shoes. She strode from the front hall into the small sitting room where Miss Marple was waiting with two steaming cups of cocoa, her eyes bright with impatience. Anya sat down across from her and stirred her cocoa before adding some milk to the hot mixture, slowing her actions to a painful march as she saw the old woman begin to fret across from her. When she sat back with her finished drink and an impish smile on her face, the woman tsked at her, demanding right then to know exactly what she had been doing all day and why she was back so late! Anya laughed at her enthusiasm and summoned Bessie for some food first, realizing just then that she had had little to eat whilst she had been at Fox Hall. As soon as the food arrived she began her story, starting with the point of her flight from the small alleyway beside the store Miss Marple had been in.

    It took Anya the better part of two hours to finish her story, in which she was interrupted at times by the "Ohs!" and "Wonderfuls!" of Miss Marple. Once she had finished, her cocoa was cold and Miss Marple ordered more made up for her. 

    "My dear, you do look tired. You have done so well today that you deserve a long rest after you drink this last cup. You'll feel much better after you do so, trust me. Now, what will you do tomorrow? Do you think he will summon you to accompany him on another case?" Anya shook her head.

    "I don't know. He may believe me the meddlesome type as he believes you, Miss Marple. He did approve of what I did today and was glad of my help, but it still seems as if he is hesitating with something. He still does not believe everything about me despite the evidence I have shown him. I must do more yet I know not what it is that is still required of me." She sighed heavily, accepting the new cup of cocoa from the maid. 

    "I believe he will invite you back, if nothing else than to look at you. I saw the way he watched you before he drove off. I know the look a man gets when his heart has begun to be swayed by a woman." It was Anya's turn to scoff. 

    "Come now, Miss Marple. We've only just met! Surely such things here are not so quick as that, are they?" Marple laughed out loud. 

    "Of course they are, my dear! Some marriages are even still based on nothing but promises between mothers of two different families! Surely you know something of the marriage state from your own mother?" Anya shook her head.

    "Not of the marriage state here, I'm afraid. I learned much about England and Earth before I came but I'm afraid I should have taken the time to study more of it. I was eager to begin my role as a Guardian that I simply did not take the time to study all I could of the world I would soon be inhabiting." Miss Marple tsked her good-naturedly, placing her empty cup on a small table beside her. 

    "You must be tired, dear. If you're finished with your drink you may go on up to bed now." Anya smiled and took one last sip of her cocoa, enjoying the warmth as it filtered through her. 

    "Thank you, Miss Marple. I think I shall go directly." She stood, placing her own cup on the table. "Goodnight,  madam," she said with a small curtsy. The old woman smiled at her. 

    "Yes, goodnight. Anya, dear?" The angel halted in a half turn and turned back, cocking a curious eye brow. 

    "Yes?"

    "I have just been thinking, and having you address me so formally is no longer needed. So from now on I would like you to call me Aunt Jane. Everyone who is close to me does, and it would make me feel less like an old woman if you began addressing me in the same manner." Anya was astonished. 

    "Oh, but I couldn't, Miss-er-Aunt Jane. Do you really think we are that close?" she inquired innocently. The old woman dipped her head with a smile.  
  

 "Why of course, dear. You are living in my home, and I fully understand and believe the situation you have presented me. I believe we are two of the closest people in the entire world at the moment," she said with certainty, struggling to her feet. Anya ushered to help her quickly and the two of them laughed and headed off to their rooms.     

As Anya lay in her bed only a few minutes later, she could not believe that such good fortune had fallen upon her. How had such a thing happened without divine intervention? She looked toward her ceiling and felt a small smile tug at her lips. Perhaps she had gotten a little help after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided to add everything I have so far in this story. There are 8 chapters, but I have not finished it. Perhaps this will be the kick in the pants I need for me to do so.

The following morning, Anya nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the telephone in the front hall suddenly start ringing. The maid hurried to answer it and Anya found herself stopping what she was doing, straining to hear beyond the dining room door. The maid's light footsteps were soon heard scurrying toward the door before she revealed herself to the two women, breathless even from that small sprint.

"Miss Anya, there's a man on the phone for you. He hasn't given his name, just said you'd know who it was. He says he must speak with you urgently, miss," the girl said, curtsying slightly when she saw the nod from Anya.

"Thank you, Bessie. I shall take it right now."

Her gaze flicked up to find Aunt Jane's knowing gray eyes light up with glee. She ushered the angel out and Anya nearly sprinted for the door and the phone beyond. She grabbed the receiver forcefully and made herself stop. She closed her eyes to compose herself with a deep breath before bringing the receiver slowly to her face.

"Inspector Slack?" she asked into the phone. She suddenly realized she was clutching it with a death grip and forced herself to relax as she heard his voice on the other end.

"Yes, Miss Anya. You said last night that you might want to accompany me on another case should I need it."

"Yes, sir. I will gladly come if you have need of me."

He cleared his throat rather loudly, uncomfortable with this practice of asking for help. "Very well. Could you meet me at Willow House in a quarter of an hour? We've just had a call about a double murder that has taken place, and there is speculation that there could be a third. It is a rather large house and there are many suspects for me to question."

Anya's smile faded despite her good fortune. She felt a sudden shame about her gaiety on the subject. Why should she feel so such joy in the fact that the only way she could prove herself to Inspector Slack was to help him question suspects in a murder case? Her thoughts and attitude sobered immediately with this thought.

"Oh, dear. I shall be there, Inspector, and will help in any way I can," she assured.

She could almost see his curt nod on the other side of the phone.

"Good. Oh, and we may be staying late depending on how well everything goes, so for Heaven's sake, bring a coat and gloves with you so you do not freeze!"

The phone clicked in her ear and she pulled back to stare at it, bewildered. Well, that was a rather strange ending. Was that supposed to be Slack expressing an amount of concern for her? Most certainly not. The man had only met her two days ago. Surely she had mistaken that, but she was glad that he had summoned her for help. She turned when she heard the old woman come into the hall with a wide smile on her face.

Anya found herself laughing out loud. "Oh, Aunt Jane, wait til you hear!"

This time, the old woman gave her a light green headscarf to keep her hair in place so she did not appear as wild as she had previously. She wore a smoky gray dress that accentuated her eyes rather well, or so Aunt Jane told her. It was another dress from her past, though this one had been bought more recently than all the others. Her hair was fixed in the same bun with two braids, the headscarf pulled tightly to keep it in place as Anya flew. She did insist on flying even after Aunt Jane offered to summon a cab.

"Please save your money, Aunt Jane. I have free transportation after all, and I will only have so many excuses to use them."

Aunt Jane smiled and agreed, handing her a darker gray jacket to fit over the dress with matching gloves to accompany them. Anya took them graciously and donned them, looking at herself in a small mirror suspended over her dressing table.

"This outfit is splendid, Aunt Jane. I can't thank you enough for allowing me to borrow it."

"Nonsense, dear. Now, hurry down to the front hall for your shoes. I shall give you directions to Willow House from there. Oh, and I do believe I shall pop in on you later to see how the investigation is going."

"Oh, would you? You may be of tremendous help to him, Aunt Jane. I am so happy you will come."

The old woman smiled and ushered her downstairs to hurry and prepare her for her flight. In no time Anya was in the air, lifting above the clouds once more before any peering eyes could see. She ran over the directions Aunt Jane had given her in her head, allowing herself to fly rather close to the paved roads in order to see the road signs whenever there was no evidence of anyone in sight. Willow House was further than Fox Hall and required more effort to find. She found the rather extravagant cherry wood sign announcing the entrance to Willow House and decided to follow it the large, paved path at a walk, indulging in the beauty of the elms and yews that lined the lane. All too soon the path widened and a white-paneled house was suddenly before her amidst a large front yard pruned perfectly in all aspects. She stopped with a gasp of admiration. The house and the grounds it sat on was beautiful. She continued on, her feet crunching on the lane turned gravel as it wound closer to the stone front steps splayed before her.

A car roared up from behind and she sidestepped quickly, allowing the vehicle to pass her to join the group already parked to the side of the moss-riddled building. A fountain depicting a marbled stag spouted water just yards from the barn-red front doors, encircled by beautiful flowering plants, all of them types she did not know the names of. Perhaps plant life was something else she should have studied before she had made her transition.

She reached the front doors at nearly the same time as the pair of policemen and they tipped their hats to her politely before knocking, prompting the butler to open the way for them. The officers allowed her to enter first and she stepped to the side with a nod, allowing them to carry on with their business. Someone took her coat and gloves and then her headscarf when she had removed it and checked her bun to be sure it had stayed in place. She was lost in the mesmerizing decor that she found inside this humongous house. Fox Hall was almost nothing to this grandeur, though Willow House was rather a tad too extravagant for her. Paintings adorned the hallway and there were carpets everywhere in various colors, trimmed with golden tassels and other vibrant shades.

Someone bumped into her and she gasped, her eyes finding the face of a frightened servant girl who looked positively mortified at her accident.

She opened her mouth to apologize when Anya held up a hand, staying her words. "Please, the fault is all mine. I truly apologize. I was too lost in looking around this hall that I was not paying attention to where I was placing my feet. What is your name?" she asked the shaking girl.

"M-Mary," the girl stammered, wringing a small cloth in her hands nervously. Anya placed her hand on top of one of the girl's, ceasing her wringing motion as she smiled disarmingly.

"Mary, that is a lovely name. I wonder, could you please take me to Inspector Slack? I am here to aid him in his investigation," she said soothingly, feeling the shaking of the girl slowly cease.

Mary nodded excitedly, taking her hand from Anya's before motioning for her to follow. She scurried down the hall, looking back a few times to make sure Anya was keeping up. She was led down the longest front hall the angel had ever seen before finally reaching the library where, sure enough, the shouts of the Inspector could be clearly heard. Mary began to shake again and Anya was sure that she had recently been a target of the Inspector's shouts for something or other.

Anya placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, turning the girl's head toward her. "Thank you, I can go on from here. I'm sure you are very busy this morning and am very sorry to keep you from your duties."

Mary shook her head, the relief in her eyes evident. "Not at all, miss. Thank you, miss, you are very kind. If there is anything you need, please ask me," she said, curtsying slightly before hurrying off to continue her work.

Anya smiled after her. What a darling girl. She knocked on the door, effectively silencing the loud arguing going on inside by the Inspector.

"Yes!" he barked.

Anya turned the handle and stepped through. "Good morning, Inspector," she said, giving him her brightest smile.

"Ah, there you are. Come in, Miss Anya, and have a seat," he said, motioning for Lake to grab a chair for her.

She closed the door behind her and hastened inside, her eyes finding the young man that was currently caught under the fire of questions. His eyes had the most wicked light burning in them. Oh, dear. This one would be a problem were she ever caught in a room alone with him. She ignored his stares and sat in the chair Lake had provided her, thanking him with a cheery smile. He returned it happily before picking up his pad and returning to his note taking.

"Now," the Inspector continued as if he had never been interrupted, "we were speaking of where you were at the hours between one and four this morning."

And so the barrage of questions began. Anya found herself focusing harder than ever to find any hint of a lie in order to please Slack. A few times she thought she caught the faintest of one, but they were such tiny details as to be inconsequential, as if he were diverting attention from something he had been doing that he would rather not mention. However, she believed that these omissions had nothing to do with the murders. In the end, she was forced to conclude that the man had nothing to hide that would be useful to the Inspector. Shortly after he was sent to bring in his sister for questioning, Slack turned to Anya for answers to his unspoken questions.

"He was lying, sir, but not about where he was. There was something he was doing at that time, but I am sure it has any precedence on the murder. It is more than likely something either illegal or embarrassing to relate to a policeman," she said.

He grunted and turned away. "I believe I received the same thing. There are two sisters to question and then the father. It was the mother and grandmother that were the victims."

She was rather astonished that he was giving her so much information on the case. She did not think that he would involve her as much as he was now.

When he saw the puzzled look on her face, he stopped. "Aren't you interested in this? What do you find so confusing?" he demanded.

She shook her head. "I am merely confused as to why you are telling me all this. I was to only sit in on your questioning to tell you if your suspects are telling the truth or not. I simply did not expect to be a part of the investigation as a whole."

He seemed taken aback. "Do you not wish to be a part of it?"

"Oh, I do wish to be. I just did not think you would ever give me the chance, that is all, Inspector," she said.

He turned his head away. Why was he involving her so much? She was not supposed to be a constant in his life, no matter what she said about her ridiculous Guardian position. Even if, for any reason within the known universe, she was telling the truth, he could never let her throw her life away protecting an aging, grumpy man who was an inspector first and an amateur magician after.

"It does not matter," he said after a time. "You are an asset and it would be foolish of me not to take advantage of your skills in this field. That is all. Ah, next person," he said, smoothly changing the subject as the sister entered the room, taking the seat he motioned for her to sit in.

Anya had no time to think on his answer as he jumped instantly into the next round of vigorous questioning, grilling the sister until the woman was close to hysterics. Anya was forced to interrupt which nearly sent the Inspector into a rage, his eyes wild.

"I will have her calm as quickly as possible, Inspector, so that she may answer your questions effectively," she snapped after he had had his short rage at her.

Again he was taken aback at her abrupt change in temperament and the lack of fear she felt. He was used to people jumping at his bark and hurrying to do whatever it was that needed to be done. After that first meeting in his office, this young woman had seemed to adapt herself well to his outbursts and no longer feared anything he had to throw at her. He had met very few people in his life who had done just that. She was a different creature, altogether.

He watched, interested despite himself as she knelt by the woman, speaking in low, soothing tones. He saw the trembles in the woman dissipate almost immediately and soon she was laughing at something the blonde told her. He noticed from the corner of his eye that Lake seemed to be enjoying their spectacle of locking horns, and grew even more irritated at his sergeant. Soon Anya was on her feet again after she had the woman's consent that she could continue.

She faced Slack once more. "You may begin again, Inspector," she said coolly, resuming her seat.

"Thank you," he quipped, thrusting himself once again into his questions.

The woman was ready for him this time and fully composed, answering each question without so much as a small lie. She passed Anya's test with flying colors.

As the day wore on and those who still needed to be interrogated steadily diminished, the inspector's attitude did not improve. Anya was forced twice more to stop his questioning in order to give composure back to the person he was interrogating. He kept himself from raging at her the third time this happened in order to keep a sharp retort from her. He did not feel comfortable after she snapped at him and felt a twinge of shame. Shame?! Him, be ashamed of eliciting a sharp retort from this woman? Was he going soft? No, this woman would not tame him! He would remain strong and let nothing change his attitude.

The situation he found himself in steadily deteriorated around him. Shortly after the last servant had been let go from the interrogation room, Miss Marple was shown into it to see the inspector. She greeted him cheerily despite the angry color that her presence brought to his cheeks. Anya hugged her in a familiar manner, happy to finally have her help with the investigation. Anya had begun to despair that she had angered the inspector past the point of no return and was glad for a distraction.

The four of them, Lake included, took tea from the servants. Marple started right into the inspector, grilling him for information so that she might give any insight she could. He grudgingly acquiesced, allowing her the same information he had made Anya privy to. Soon, the old woman was left sitting back in her chair, lost in thought as she pondered the facts. Anya took that moment to bring Lake into the conversation, asking about his life. She learned of his wife and of the birth of their second child, now nearly six months old. She kept the conversation about him, not allowing him to begin delving into her past as she resolved to keep it secret from him for the moment. She had no doubt that he was trustworthy, but she feared what speaking of her past in front of the inspector would induce in his demeanor.

Soon Anya excused herself to touch up her hair and throw some water on her face. She felt strangely flushed and a bit tired from having to concentrate so hard on ferreting out any liars in the large group of people left within the house. The tea and biscuits had helped to revive her but she needed another push to get back to normal. She found a servant who directed her toward a guest room with a washbasin and a small mirror that she used to check her hair. She fixed a slight defect in her bun before splashing cool water on her face, wiping it off with a soft towel set beside the basin. It was just the thing she needed. She checked to make sure she had not splashed any water on her dress before exiting the room, being sure to close the door softly behind her.

Just as she turned to head back to the library, she was interrupted by two hands slamming against the door behind her, one on either side of her head. A man's body effectively pinned her to her spot. She recognized him as the only son of the family within Willow House. She could not put her finger on his name. It came to her suddenly: William Adcock. He was the one with the eyes she did not like. She felt fear at his close proximity, his nasty intentions rolling off of him in waves that were nauseating. She decided to try her best at pleasantries and bide her time until she could escape or someone came around to distract him.

"Is there something I can help you with, sir?" she asked, keeping her thoughts from the sudden sweating of her palms.

He smiled at her like a cat sneering at a mouse that was effectively cornered. "You are the most exquisite creature I have ever laid eyes on. You're a psychologist, I've heard. I believe that's a load of bollocks, but then I would never contradict the word of a lady," he said smoothly, his oily voice sending shivers down her spine.

They were not the sort of shivers an interested lady would feel.

"I am flattered by your compliments, sir, but I must affirm that I am a psychologist. I am here to test a theory on the relationship between psychology and interrogations," she said, moving her hands slowly up in order to shove him away if need be.

Her strength was limited by the body she inhabited. Even still, she did not forget the training she had had since childhood. He grabbed both of her wrists as he saw her arms move and pinned them to the wall. Anger bloomed in her chest and she glared at him. How dare he attack an angel or any woman, for that matter? She made a point to struggle but he held her fast. She could throw him off, but she cautioned herself to wait. However, the longer she made him think that she would not struggle, the faster things would escalate until they became dangerous. She did not wish the inspector to become afraid of her, after all.

"Don't struggle, darling. You should be flattered that you are being given such attentions by a man who has wealth and power. It is like a king giving his attentions to a beggar woman. I'm sure she would fairly swoon simply by thinking of such a thing. I know you want this just as much as I do," he said, leaning in to capture her lips with his.

She turned her head quickly, eyes squinted shut, and his lips instead found the side of her clenched jaw. She felt the anger racing through her veins like fire and her knee raised of its own accord just as a door opened somewhere down the hall. Her eyes flew open and her knee stopped in midair when she saw Sergeant Lake coming out of the library, presumably to search for her. His eyes locked on the pair of them and instantly recognized the plea in her eyes.

"Oi!" he yelled, startling the man into letting go of Anya's wrists and stepping back from her.

She took that instant to dart from the circle of his arms and head in the direction of Lake. When she reached him he stepped in front of her protectively, glaring at the man where he still stood. Lake's yell brought others into the hall and Anya felt her hand grabbed by the old woman.

"You're shaking, dear, what happened?" she asked, pulling the younger woman into a hug.

"That pig was attempting to force himself on her, sir," Lake reported, pointing to William who was now hurrying to where his sisters were standing outside of the sitting room, startled by Lake's shouts.

"Are you all right, miss?" Slack asked, turning his attention to Anya.

She was surprised to see concern shadowing his lined face and managed a smile to reassure him. "I am perfectly all right. I'm just a bit shaken, that's all. Thank you, Lake, for coming out when you did,"she said, genuinely filled with gratitude to the man.

He nodded, moving to take the arm that Miss Marple was not holding. "Come, you've had a shock. Let's get you back into the room so you can sit," he said, ushering her back into the library with Miss Marple on her other side.

They drew up a chair and seated her despite her protests. Miss Marple piled a plate high with biscuits and cakes and poured a new cup of tea for her. She couldn't help but chuckle a little at the attentions of them both while Slack looked on, bewildered by the whole business and appearing somewhat sheepish. Was he ashamed that he had not been the one to come out and rescue her? She shook herself mentally. Of course not, what a thought! Why should he care one way or the other?

Aunt Jane made her cram four biscuits into her belly and a whole cup of tea before she was satisfied that Anya was over her ordeal. She admonished the lad for being so rude to her young friend and told the inspector that for as long as they were to stay at Willow House, he had better keep an eye on that young man and not let him anywhere near Anya. Slack seemed ruffled by her sudden outburst and assured her most fervently that he would do everything in his power to keep a repeat event from happening. Anya had tried to intercept the old woman, admonishing her for blaming the poor inspector for something he had no power to prevent. She was immediately hushed and another biscuit was unceremoniously crammed in her mouth. She sighed and took a weary bite.

"She will not leave my sight for the rest of the day, ma'am, are you satisfied with that?" Slack suddenly bellowed, shocking Miss Marple into silence.

She blinked once, twice, three times, and suddenly gave the most impish smile Anya had ever seen in her life. "Why yes, Inspector, that would please me greatly," she purred.

Slack saw his mistake too late to rectify it and found that he had no choice but to keep to his word. Oh, he would never hear the end of this from Lake! The sergeant plagued him daily with his cheerfulness and love of pointing out any wrongs the Chief Inspector did. He was a good worker, though, and did not give Slack any actual reason to want him gone. He could be an irksome fellow at times, and tomorrow would be no exception after this declaration he had just given in front of them all.

The subject finally turned to other things after a few moments, and the four said and ate their fill until Slack was ready to take up looking at the evidence again. He wanted to go over everything that had been told him by the family members, none of whom were lying, according to Anya. At least he did not have to wrestle with that mystery. There was a certain benefit to having the young woman there to be his lie detector. It meant he did not have to do it himself, and saved him a bit of time on the subject.

The four companions stood to go their separate ways, the officers and Anya back to reviewing evidence and Miss Marple back to her home to be alerted if anything changed, when a sudden bone-chilling shriek from outside froze them in place. They glanced at each other to make sure they had each heard it and, affirming that it was no figment of imagination, stole from the room to find the source of that awful sound. Officers and servants were rushing from their stations to the back door which stood wide open at the end of the long hall where the distorted figure of a fainting woman could be seen. Slack barreled his way through everyone and was the first out the doors, Anya and Lake hot on his heels as they ran to see the cause of the woman's distress.

Anya went to the grounded woman to make an attempt at reviving and making sure that she had not hurt herself from the fall. The men scoured the grounds to see what had caused her to faint. Anya recognized the woman: Janet, the eldest sister. Slack stopped, pointing toward a black figure on the other side of the stone wall to their left. He and Lake peered over to see the battered face of what had been the father. The younger sister Judith and fiendish brother William darted from the back door toward their fallen sister, gesticulating wildly. Anya moved aside for the two of them, turning to where the other officers had gathered around what she presumed was a body. She started toward them.

One of the servants approached at the same time as Anya and screamed, covering her face with her hands as the men around hastened to take her from the grisly scene. Anya felt her heart begin to ache as she saw the distorted face of what had once been the proud father of three children and master of the beautiful Willow House. She also noted the head wound which had most certainly killed him and the fact that his attacker had likely used the same weapon to smash his face into an unrecognizable mask of blood and bone. Slack turned to see her ashen face and moved to usher her away from the body.

"Are you ill?" he asked, gently taking a hold of her elbow to walk her away.

She wrenched her eyes away from the body and looked at Slack, noticing the worry mirrored in his face. In that instant, she realized that she had unconsciously reached up to grab her chest in pain. She let her hand fall, the pain slowly easing now that her eyes were diverted from the sight.

"I'm all right, Inspector. It pains me to see any dead creature, that's all. My heart aches for him and his family." She looked back at the three young family members left, the eldest girl crying inconsolably against her sister's shoulder. "Who possesses so much rage in order to do something like this?" she asked softly.

Slack shook his head, not yet knowing the answer to that question. He hoped that in time he would, preferably before another murder occurred. Aunt Jane was suddenly by her other elbow, patting her reassuringly whilst scrutinizing the body with a curious eye.

"Don't worry, dear, I shall stay longer so that we can find this killer. I hope you don't have a problem with that, Chief Inspector?" she asked, turning a wicked eye on the man.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Do as you will, Miss Marple," he said. He looked at Anya. "This is now a third crime scene. We need to move and let forensics do their work."

"Yes, of course," Anya said, moving to do his bidding.

Aunt Jane walked in front while she and Slack trailed along behind, walking slowly from the body as the forensics team moved to begin their process. Anya noticed with a start that he was still holding her under the elbow as if he thought she might faint dead away at any time. She was about to pull away when his hand fell from her on its own. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. Anya said nothing, allowing his actions to go seemingly unnoticed.

Now here was a real dilemma for them. They had a third murder, and now one less suspect. Was it the murderer that killed the father for some knowledge that he had? Or could the father have been the original murderer, and someone else guessed his crimes and decided to take the law into his or her own hands? Anya didn't know where to start. She watched Aunt Jane to see if she could catch any hint of what the old woman was thinking. She had learned early that Aunt Jane did not reveal all she knew to anyone else until she was ready, and Anya knew to employ patience with her in matters such as these.

The three filed back into the house and Slack took the lead then, stalking toward the interrogation room where his officers awaited further instructions in the wake of this new development. Anya let Aunt Jane take her chair as she stood behind it, watching as Slack walked to the front of the room before turning to face the small group before him.

"We need to work double time now to find this murderer before he strikes again. This person has killed three people now, and one of them right under our noses. I will not tolerate it! I want the remaining family members watched at all times and every single servant questioned diligently. No one is to leave the premises for any reason at all, even if they've already been questioned. Lake, go gather the siblings and bring them in here. I want everyone out of this room before they come in, except for you two." He pointed toward Anya and Miss Marple. The rest of the officers filed out of the room quickly before they got a tongue-lashing, leaving the three alone in the room.

"Miss Marple," Slack began, sitting briefly in a chair, "do you have any ideas at this point as to who we are looking for?"

The old woman seemed startled from a daze. "What? Oh, yes, ideas. Yes, well, I do have a few. One is that I believe you are looking for a woman and not a man."

"Oh yes? And what gave you that idea?" Slack asked, leaning back and fixing the old woman with his piercing stare.

She continued, unflustered. "Well, did you smell the air around the body? I knew I caught a faint whiff of perfume but the wind blew it away so quickly I almost thought I was mistaken. The eldest sister was not wearing any to my recollection. Do you recall, dear? You went to her first before the body was discovered by the rest of us," Aunt Jane said, peering up at Anya.

She thought back. "I don't recall smelling any perfume on her, Aunt Jane. But it could have been faint, put on a while back."

The old woman nodded curtly, looking back down at her lap as she contemplated these facts. Slack looked as if he'd be happier tossing the elderly woman out the door rather than hear any more of her musings. Before he could ask her anything further, the door opened again, permitting the three siblings into the small office. Lake entered after them and pulled up three more chairs, placing one by Anya with a smile.

"Thank you, Lake. You are very kind," she said, seating herself as the three made themselves comfortable.

William attempted to catch Anya's eye. Lake made sure to pull up a chair by the angel, placing her in between himself and Miss Marple, the both of them forming a protective barrier around her that she greatly appreciated.

Aunt Jane leaned over just before Slack stood to begin and whispered in her ear. "Be sure to focus now, dear. The murderer may be in this room right now. Focus on the two sisters, especially the younger, Judith. Do you see that tiny smudge on the top of her right ear lobe? I'm almost certain that could be blood."

She patted Anya's hand and sat straight again, pinning young William to his chair with a cold stare as he continued his attentions toward an unresponsive Anya. He seemed to wither beneath the old woman's stare and turned to the commanding presence of Inspector Slack as the detective began.

Anya stared at Judith's right ear lobe, finally spotting the tiny speck that Aunt Jane was speaking of, though she couldn't possibly tell from this angle if it were blood or a small blemish. She did as she was told, however, and focused especially hard on her as she answered questions flawlessly. She was not lying, yet she was holding something back. Anya let her ids droop over her eyes as she focused all of her attention on Judith, letting go of her other senses as she blocked Slack's droning tone and all other noises, allowing the vibrations from Judith's voice to fill her very being. Miss Marple watched her young friend, seeing the concentrated wrinkling of the angel's brow, how her eyes closed slowly, her mouth drawn into a hard line. She looked from her to Judith and noticed small movements: The twitch of the mouth, the darting of her eyes around the room every once in a while. Her gaze shifted back to Anya, waiting for any hint from the angel for the questions to stop.

Judith was speaking of her whereabouts when she made her tragic mistake. It wasn't her story, but rather her tone that gave her away. And there it was, the whole lie! Anya's senses exploded, her mind racing wildly. Judith had not been in the drawing room, but where had she been?

"You are wearing a sweater while no one else in the house is," Slack noted. "Why is that?"

"There was a draft," Judith answered. "One of the servants must not have closed a window."

Anya's eyes flew open and her heart quickened as a switch suddenly flipped on in her brain. "A draft?"

Slack stopped mid-sentence, turning an astonished gaze toward Anya who had now come to her feet between a bewildered Miss Marple and Sergeant Lake.

Judith looked just as astonished. "Yes, a draft. That is what I said, is it not?" she asked, puzzled herself by the sudden interruption.

"It is. In what direction was the draft coming?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Slack looked from her to Judith, who began to shake.

"I don't know! Whichever window was open, obviously! I didn't check!"

Anya smiled. "The wind today is blowing in a northeasterly direction, as I recall. The drawing room is facing full west. The sun is beginning to filter in around this time. The room would have been warm with no wind coming in even with all of the windows open, or certainly not enough to create a draft cold enough to induce one to pull on another layer. Your father was on the northeast side of the house where the wind would have been blowing rather hard, certainly enough to make one want to wear a sweater. And you would not have had enough time to grab one while you were running to get to your screaming sister, as you and your brother were nearly out the back door at the same time we were. You were already wearing the sweater by then, not pulling one on. Why was that?"

The woman was shaking so hard it appeared that she was having a fit of some sort. "That doesn't prove anything!" she shouted, suddenly launching herself into Anya, toppling the both of them onto the floor.

Anya cried out in pain when her lower back hit the unyielding wooden chair as Judith began screeching and clawing at her face, slapping and hitting her before Lake and the others could drag her off. Blood was coursing down her cheek and eyebrow from two long scratches Judith had managed to inflict. Aunt Jane was there with a handkerchief blotting the blood from her face and calling for someone to get medical help. Judith was hauled from the room screaming and crying by two female officers while Slack and Lake hurried to Anya.

"I'm so sorry I didn't grab her in time, miss," Lake was apologizing, looking mortified as he saw the state her face was in.

She smiled, her lips sore from the smacking. "Don't think of it, Lake. I thought she might try something like that," she said, accepting Slack's help back to her feet.

A sudden twinge in her back made her gasp in pain. She would have fallen to her knees of Slack had not snaked an arm around her.

"Easy, Miss Anya. Lake, have the servants bring up a wash basin and cloth for her. We'll take her to the sitting room. There should be a couch in there she can lie down on."

She tried to free herself, insisting that she was not badly hurt, but Slack held her close and snapped at her to stop struggling. She sighed and slumped in the circle of his arm then, submitting to his will as he led her from the room.

Miss Marple take a hold of her other arm. "My dear, you should not have let yourself take such a beating if you knew it would come," Aunt Jane admonished her gently.

"I confess, I have had worse happen to me, Aunt Jane. That was a mere scuffle compared to what I have seen and been a part of."

Aunt Jane tisked her. "My dear, you were the wild child, weren't you?" Anya laughed, stifling it with a gasp as her back twinged in admonishment. "Oh my, you must lie down and rest immediately," Aunt Jane said just as Lake returned to give a helping hand.

He took Anya's other arm from Miss Marple and wrapped it around his shoulders, the two men walking her easily from the office and down the hall to the sitting room, lowering her gently on a small couch. Aunt Jane sat beside her and began washing her face with the cloth. The warm water felt pleasant on her face and she was able to relax just a little until her back twinged again, making her cringe.

"We'll have to have the doctor look at you, dear," she said as she gently wiped blood from Anya's cheek.

"Trust me when I say that is not necessary, Aunt Jane. I promise you."

She looked at the old woman, trying to convey her meaning. Aunt Jane searched her eyes and then nodded, thinking then that she did in fact understand her meaning. Anya was an angel, after all. Of course she would possess some sort of healing abilities.

Slack, however, was not convinced. "Of course she must see a doctor. That fall hurt her back so that she can barely walk! I'll call for one right now."

He moved to go to the door when a hand on his sleeve stopped him.

"I do not need a doctor, sir, I assure you. I will be fine."

Anya smiled up at him in what she hoped was a reassuring way even as her back began to pulse with pain where she was sure she had a very large bruise. He did not seem convinced but remained where he was, sighing heavily at the determination on her face. She waited to make sure he would heed her wishes and let go of his sleeve.

"Very well. But I will insist on giving you a lift home in my car when we leave," he said.

"I did bring a coat and gloves this time, Inspector."

He gave her a half-smile before it seemed to slip off his face.

He turned. "Lake, go see what has become of Judith Adcock and see if she will confess. If she refuses, come get me." Lake nodded and hurried off. Slack looked at Miss Marple and then, deciding quickly, took a chair across from the two women. "Now, Miss Anya, why will you not go to see a doctor?" he asked sternly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I am an angel, sir, and have the ability to heal myself. My back will not be a problem by later on tonight, and neither will these cuts on my face. I shall look normal again before I go to sleep tonight," she stated. "I certainly did not look like the capable Guardian I am supposed to be for you, did I?" she laughed nervously, glancing to Aunt Jane.

She smiled and patted the girl's hand. "You were just fine today, dear. I'm sure the inspector does not think you a poor Guardian now, am I correct?"

She turned her steely gray eyes to Slack and he cleared his throat under her gaze. "I am still not convinced of this whole angel story. And for you to believe it also, Miss Marple, is a great surprise to me," he said scathingly, returning to his usual ignorant self.

"One day I shall convince you, Inspector, and then you'll have no choice but to accept me as I am," Anya said softly.

They locked eyes, searching each other in that moment. Miss Marple looked between the two of them and smiled to herself. Oh yes, the inspector was intrigued by her young angel friend and would soon be under her spell, if he wasn't already. Just three days and the inspector already began showing signs of concern for the girl and, very rarely, a willingness to not argue with her. It was this second fact that surprised the old woman the most. For Slack to not argue with someone who interrupted or overrode an order from him was akin to a sign of the apocalypse in her mind. Oh yes, things would work out just fine for these two in the end.

"Inspector," Anya began, her embarrassment obvious as she began wringing her hands together. He blinked when she looked away from him and wondered what it was she needed to say.

"Yes?"

She turned brilliant green eyes back to him and he fought to keep from swallowing involuntarily at the look in them.

"You may think me too forward in this request, but if I am to continue assisting you with your interrogations, perhaps it is best if we can communicate with each other in another way that would allow none other to hear our conversation."

He was perplexed, wondering what on earth she could possibly mean. A conversation no one else could hear? Were they supposed to speak with their minds? His thoughts were interrupted as she stood and walked toward him, lowering herself to her knees. She was very close, too close for comfort, and he found himself leaning back to keep a decent distance between the two. He noticed vaguely that Miss Marple was watching them with keen interest.

"Relax, Inspector, I am not going to hurt you. But this will require me to be a little close, you understand. Now, you must trust me and close your eyes. Can you do that? It will not take long, I assure you," she said, her eyes piercing his with an intensity he had never seen from her.

She very nearly frightened him with the intensity of her gaze, something few people had done before. He could do nothing but nod, not trusting himself to utter any words as he closed his eyes for her to begin whatever it was she was doing. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt both her hands cup his cheeks. His eyes flew open in fury at her presumptuous actions, but she silenced his unspoken declaration with a single glare.

"Eyes closed, Inspector. I am not taking advantage of you, I promise. Trust me. Close your eyes!"

He snapped them shut once more, his cheeks burning at having been scolded like a schoolboy by this woman who was half his age, at least. Her hands remained on his cheeks and he felt her forehead touch his, her lips lightly resting against the bridge of his nose as he held perfectly still, wondering what would happen if Lake or another officer decided to appear at that moment. His thoughts turned to Anya again as he felt the most peculiar sensation in his head. It started as a wave of warmth that seemed to roll from her forehead throughout his entire skull, trickling down his face, neck, shoulders, and on down until his whole body was engulfed in a pleasant warmth that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Anya held her position against him a moment longer before she slowly began to pull away. As she did, it felt as if a cord had been tied between their foreheads, stretching tighter and tighter as she moved away from him. She let her hands fall from his cheeks and sat back, opening her eyes to see his face screwed up in concentration as he attempted to assert why he felt the way he did. She almost laughed out loud until his lids fluttered open. He stared at her. She could hear his thoughts now, as clearly as she could hear his voice should he speak. He was wondering what she had done to him and she smiled, sending new thoughts racing into his head that further amused her.

She fought to keep her composure. "Now, Inspector," she said out loud. "Watch my lips as I speak to you." She turned the conversation inward. ~ _Can you hear me?_ ~ she sent, watching his eyes widen as he realized that she was not, in fact, using her mouth to speak to him.

"You can speak in my head?" he demanded.

She silenced him with a mental admonishment. ~ _Use your mind!_ ~ she snapped, making him flinch at the forceful tone.

He concentrated hard, forming the words he would have spoken in his mind. ~ _We can speak using our minds now?_ ~

It was sent ponderously, but she understood the whole sentence. She was very proud of him in that moment. She smiled and nodded her understanding. His eyes went even wider.

"Brilliant, Inspector. That is our new form of communication," she said aloud, transferring herself from the floor to the couch again. "All angels must establish an unbreakable bond with their humans from the start so that, even if separated, they can find each other quickly if danger threatens. Do you still doubt me?" she asked slyly, but he was too astonished to answer.

Just then the door opened and Lake entered again, informing Slack that Judith was not confessing, but instead ranting and raving about how she wanted to get her hands on Miss Anya and strangle the life out of her. Slack sighed and got to his feet, sending Lake back out of the room on another errand. He turned to the two ladies before him, his eyes lingering an instant longer on Anya.

"I will see what I can do about this confession. In the meantime, the case seems to be just about closed. Miss Marple, if you would like, I can send for a cab for you. I'm sure you are very tired from the events of the day. And I will leave you here to rest, Miss Anya, unless you prefer to leave with Miss Marple."

"I believe I shall stay here with you. There's no telling what that woman is capable of, and I would like to be on hand should I be needed."

He rolled his eyes. "I assure you that I will be well protected by the other officers here. If you stay, you will keep to this room and rest until we are ready to leave. I will come collect you when the car is ready. Excuse me."

He left quickly, leaving the two women alone to exchange knowing glances between one another.

"I must say, my dear, that you were wonderful just now. He cannot escape the fact now that you are his Guardian, don't you think?" Marple asked, standing and walking to the corner of the room where she pulled on the elaborate cord meant to summon a servant. "I do believe all of this business has made me very hungry. Would you like something, dear? At least tea, of course," she said, resuming her seat.

Anya smiled. "Yes, I think I will just have tea. I am still rather full from all the cakes and biscuits you and Sergeant Lake forced me to eat earlier." She rubbed her tummy absentmindedly, making Aunt Jane laugh heartily.

"Do you think it wise, my dear, to leave him in the same room as Judith?" she asked suddenly, sobering the mood just as a servant arrived to take their order.

Anya leaned back on the couch, thinking on the subject as Miss Marple gave their requests and the servant had left. "Through our connection, I will be immediately alerted to any change in his constitution. If his heart starts beating abnormally fast, I will know something is wrong. Any changes in his normal body function will, in turn, be recognized in mine, and I will be able to be by his side in an instant if needed, especially since the room is only just down the hall. I am in no way worried that she will attack him, however, as her anger seems to all be directed at me."

"Ye, you surprised me with your keen observation of her sweater and the wind patterns today. Though I was confused about the drawing room. How did you know the direction it was facing?"

Anya smiled rather slyly. "That I worked up on the spot, Aunt Jane. I have no idea what direction the drawing room was facing. The way I presented it to her made her think that I knew better, and she was so flustered that by the time I began making things up, she knew that I knew she was the murderer."

"I must say, I am incredibly proud of your sharp mind. You may grow to be another me in time," she laughed.

Anya hastily protested. "I could never be like you, Aunt Jane, never! You are infinitely cleverer than I and the world will be a dreary place once you're gone, though I think Heaven will liven up a little," she acknowledged with a smile.

The old woman waved her finger at the angel mockingly. The servant came back with a small tray of tea and cakes. Anya carefully avoided the cakes, making her tea up with a smile at Aunt Jane who seemed purposefully oblivious. When they had eaten to their heart's content, Slack knocked and entered the room again, informing Miss Marple that there was a cab now waiting at the entrance to take her home. She thanked him heartily and set off on her own, leaving Slack alone with Anya. The more time they spent together, the more their newly-formed bond would grow.

As soon as the old woman left the room, Slack's eyes seemed to not know where to rest. He felt more uncomfortable now than ever before around Anya, perhaps because she could now read his thoughts. The sudden clearing of her throat summoned his eyes to her where she sat contently on the couch, watching him curiously.

She could not take the silence any longer and so took it upon herself to begin a conversation. "Was a confession given?" she asked. He nodded, his eyes finding a vase to rest on instead of her deep green irises. It irritated her but she decided to not comment on it. "Good. So the bad woman has been caught. Is there anything else you wish me to do or anyone who needs my services?"

He cleared his throat. "No, no, Miss Anya, there is nothing else I have for you."

"Please, Inspector, just Anya." He looked at her this time. She smiled softly, wishing to ease his nerves. "We have formed a bond and therefore we now have what you can call an informal relationship. However, I will continue to call you 'Inspector' until you permit me to call you by another name," she said.

In a way he appreciated her understanding as she knew very well he was not at all used to getting very close to people. It was not a common practice he employed and, as a result, was looked upon quite negatively at headquarters. His dedication and excellent work in the field was always cause for others to overlook his rusty social skills and continue to work with him. Lake, especially, was a professional at overlooking his rather antisocial tendencies, and accepted him wholly, finding humor in his faults. At this moment, Lake was having a field day with the awkward situation Slack found himself in concerning Anya, and the thought of it made his face burn.

"Very well, Miss-I mean- Anya," he stammered. "Everything here is done and everyone is packed and ready to go back to HQ. I'll give you a lift to Miss Marple's place in my car, so please gather your things."

She smiled. "Of course, Inspector. Right away."

She stood slowly, her back continuing to pain her, and suddenly Slack was beside her with a hand on her elbow.

"You should have gone to see a doctor, you know." His voice was still rough when he addressed her but his hand was gentle. "You did not have to be so stubborn."

"A doctor can do nothing for a bruise, Inspector. It would be pointless. I assure you-"

"Yes, yes, that you'll be fully healed by the time you go to bed," he snapped.

He glanced down at her face and gave a rather pained look. She did not need to know his thoughts in that moment.

"This was not your fault, Inspector. I knew what she was capable of and what she would probably do when she was found out. She would have done the same thing to any other person and that is why I made sure it was me."

He shook his head, not believing what he was hearing from this strange girl. He led her slowly from the room and down the hall to where a maid held Anya's coat and headscarf. She smiled upon recognizing Mary, the poor girl she had run into upon entering Willow House.

Mary smiled at her and gave her a curtsy. "I heard about your fall, ma'am. I hope you are feeling all right," she said, hurrying to throw the coat around her shoulders.

"I am well. Thank you, Mary." She took the headscarf and donned it quickly, pulling her gloves from her coat pocket before Slack replaced his hand on her elbow to lead her outside. "Good day to you, Mary. Thank you for everything," she said, smiling to the young girl.

Mary blushed and smiled back, curtsying once more to her before hurrying off.

Just as the butler was opening the front door for the two of them, Anya suddenly heard her name being shouted from behind by a voice she hoped she would never hear again. They both turned to see William Adcock trotting up, beaming to see his catch. He stopped a little too close in front of Anya and she took an involuntary step backward. William grabbed for her hand and she allowed him to take it to his lips unwillingly, knowing the customs and what was expected but repulsed at the same time.

"I just wanted to apologize for how my sister Judith reacted earlier. I hope you are not too hurt? I see you need help walking. Would you care to have another shoulder to lean on?" he asked, extending an arm to circle around her other side.

She jerked back and suddenly Slack stepped forward. "Sir, I believe the young woman is fine enough to walk with only the help of one person. We thank you for the offer, but we must be going now. Good night, sir."

He turned Anya around swiftly and she felt much like a puppet in his strong arms as he steered her briskly out the door and down the stairs to the waiting car. Lake jumped into action from where he was leaning against the passenger side and opened the back door for her, helping her in before jumping in on his side. Slack walked to the other door, keeping a wary eye on William as he stood pouting at the top of the stairs with his hands stuck deep into his pockets. He got in beside Anya, snapping for the driver to step on it. The car jerked forward and soon they were leaving Willow House and the young, brash William behind.

~ _Thank you, Inspector. I did not feel safe around that man_ ,~ Anya thought softly to Slack.

He jerked his head around, catching her smiling in obvious relief up at him. He found himself at a loss for words.

~ _You're welcome,_ ~ his thought came sharply back to her as he turned his head to the window and the scenery as the sky darkened with the setting of the sun.

She turned to look out her own window, thinking of her triumphs so far. He was still brusque with her, but he seemed to have less steam with every snappy comment. Perhaps he was softening? She could only hope so. She had worked rather hard that day to keep him safe and continue to prove her worth to him at the same time. She could only wait and pray that her actions had worked on him.

They rode in silence until they pulled up in front of Miss Marple's house, the street lit by a few lamps. Slack opened the door for her, helping her out and even walking with her to the door. When they reached it, Miss Marple appeared and gave her thanks for seeing Anya home safely. Slack dipped his hat at the both of them and turned sharply, striding back to the car without a backward glance as the two women watched him. Anya held a hand up to the car when he got back in and saw Lake raise his own in farewell before it jerked back to life, speeding away at the barking orders of Slack. He did not raise a hand and did not even look back at her as the car raced off into the night. She sighed heavily, feeling the old woman's thin hand snake under her elbow as she helped the angel into her home, closing the door against the gusting wind.

"Do not look so glum, my dear. You did very well today! I could tell that the inspector is now very much taken with you, even if he will not show it at all. I am sure he is beginning to open up to the possibility of sharing his life with you."

Anya stripped off her coat and headscarf, crossing the short expanse of the hall into the sitting room and lowering herself rather heavily into her chair. Marple followed her and took the chair opposite, watching the angel worriedly.

"I cannot tell, Aunt Jane. Even with our bond, he has seemed to quickly learn how to shut me from his mind to the point where sometimes I cannot tell what he is thinking. I fear that this new-found skill of his will only get stronger until our bond can no longer develop. I still feel that he resents me for butting into his life so officiously. Perhaps I went about this the wrong way completely."

"Now, dear, do not think that way."

Aunt Jane patted her hand soothingly, summoning Bessie for tea. Anya suddenly stood.

"No tea for me, Aunt Jane, thank you. I think I shall go straight to my room and begin my healing process. It will further drain me and so I should be in bed while I do it. Goodnight, Aunt Jane," she excused herself.

Marple watched her go and sighed, folding her hands together as she thought further about what Anya had said. It was possible that the Chief Inspector thought the girl's being in his life an intrusion, of course. In all the time that Marple had known the inspector, she had never heard him speak to anyone of a wife or even a girlfriend, though that did not necessarily mean he did not have someone, however doubtful she thought it. Perhaps she could ask around town during her morning errands tomorrow and see if anyone in St. Mary Mead had heard of a significant other of his.

Anya sat heavily on the bed, her back aching from the short walk up the stairs. She looked at herself in the mirror, gazing at the ugly scratches across her eyebrow and cheek. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, placing one hand on each wound, forcing herself to concentrate. She hissed in a breath as she felt the skin piece itself together in an instant of pain that was gone quickly. When next she opened her eyes, her face was flawless once more. Not even the smallest hint of a break in the skin left behind. She smiled briefly at her handiwork and then set about healing the large bruise on her back before she went to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

            The next morning, Anya was awake well after Aunt Jane, having exhausted herself more thoroughly than she had thought the previous day. Bessie arrived shortly after she got up to splash her face with water, bringing a tray with toast and jam, tea, and a hard-boiled egg for her breakfast. She thanked the girl and ate her breakfast quickly. Aunt Jane must have known what her appetite would be like.

            She dressed plainly that day in a pale pink dress, another of Aunt Jane's hand-me-downs. She would have to find a way to get some of her own dresses and keep herself from taking all the old woman's. Once she had done her hair up in the fashion she wished, she headed downstairs to accompany Aunt Jane on her morning errands. She seemed surprised when Anya came bursting out of her room saying she wished to shop with her that morning.

            "Are you sure, my dear? There may be another case today. Don't you think—?"

            "Aunt Jane, please, I would much rather spend the day with you. I think I'd rather like a break from Inspector Slack and anymore killing. I do not enjoy being in the same house as a dead person, you know," she said ruefully as she pulled on her coat and gloves.

            Aunt Jane knew better than to quarrel with her, and told Bessie that if the inspector did ring, she could tell him that they had both gone out and would be back in a couple of hours. If it wasn't urgent, then they wouldn't call back that day.

            Pleased with her message, Aunt Jane set out at once, Anya hot on her heels as the two women clip-clopped down the small lane and out into the street, moving to the side for a slow cart pulled by a grumpy old black gelding. As he passed, he slowed and nudged Anya's side gently with his muzzle, receiving a small pat on the neck from the angel before walking on at the urging of his driver. The horse warmed Anya's heart and brought a smile to her face, to which Marple was glad for his help.

            She started a conversation then about the farmers in St. Mary Mead, drawing Anya's attention away from a certain taciturn inspector. Anya was soon drawn in to the talk livestock and what funny things animals had done to Aunt Jane in her younger days. She had played with them a lot as a child. Soon, Anya was laughing and as happy as could be, her thoughts completely diverted from Slack and his gloomy self.

            They visited many shops that day and Marple, without Anya's knowing, spoke with the shopkeeper and anyone within about Slack to try and establish if there was a woman in his life. She insisted on buying a few dresses for Anya while they were out, knowing that she couldn't go on wearing hand-me-downs forever. When the angel resisted, she stated flatly that she had come into some money a few months ago by means of an old man who had died and left it to her in exchange for solving the mysterious murder of a young girl who had been engaged to his son. She explained the whole story to Anya over the course of the morning, astonishing the girl with her accounts of the people she had met and what horrible things had happened while she was on an assigned tour with her nephew.

            "My dear, he gave me so much money that I will not be able to spend it all before I die, so I need you to help me along," she stated plainly, enticing another smile from Anya.

            "You are a strange creature, Aunt Jane," the young woman laughed, finally allowing her to be shooed off to choose a few outfits for herself.

            While Anya was searching, Marple took the opportunity to ask the shopkeeper if she knew anything about Inspector Slack and, most especially, anything about him having a woman.

            "I know nothing about a woman now, ma'am, but I do believe there was one a long time ago. I don't recall her name just now, but I know she wasn't from around these parts. She was young and pretty, and very much in love with the inspector, or so he thought. I don't remember the scandal entirely, but I do believe she was caught cheating, ma'am, and left town soon after with her lover."

            Marple inhaled sharply and shook her head. Perhaps she was the reason that the inspector acted the way he did now. He was cold to everyone he knew, but perhaps he was a tad colder to young, pretty women he came across?

            They spoke a bit more on the subject before the old woman caught sight of Anya hurrying toward them with her chosen outfits. Marple changed the subject quickly, to the great alarm of the woman behind the counter, and bought the clothing with an unnatural swiftness before ushering her companion out of the store and toward a small restaurant, claiming that she was famished. Anya did not comment on her strange behavior, but instead followed the old woman, beaming with delight at the purchase of her new clothing. She would try the items on directly when they returned home.

            After lunch, they headed straight back to Marple's house with their bags. Bessie met them at the door, ushering them inside quickly.

            "What is it, Bessie? What's the matter?" Marple asked as she quickly stripped off her outerwear, looking worriedly at the young maid.

            "Oh, miss, the inspector has called twice, now! The first time I gave him your message, ma'am, and he told me to give you one in turn, immediately when you came in the door. Then a few hours passed when he called again, and when I told him you were still not home, he told me to forget the message and that he would come over directly to speak with you and miss Anya!" Bessie wailed, hurrying to gather the coats from both women and hang them in the closet.

            "When was this, Bessie?" Anya demanded. "When did he last call?"

            The maid stopped and looked at the small clock in the hall. "It must have been about fifteen minutes ago, miss. He should be here any minute!"

            "Hurry, Anya!" Aunt Jane turned swiftly, ushering the young woman toward the stairs. "Change into one of your outfits before he comes. You must look your best before he gets here. Hurry!"

            Anya bolted up the stairs, her bags hitting her knees as she raced to get to her room, throwing the bags on the bed once she reached it. She quickly stripped off her dress, being careful not to rip it in her haste, and searched for the rather favored garb she had picked out.

            She had seen some young women wearing pants now that the war was over, and so she decided that she wouldn't be too out of place if she decided to wear such things, as well. She had found a moss green shirt and matching pants that brought out the deep shade of her eyes, and pulled out both articles of clothing as she heard Aunt Jane calling up the stairs that a car had just pulled up in front of the house. Anya slipped on the pants and then the shirt, turning to the mirror to tie her hair back into a long tail, not bothering to try and do an intricate bun. A black belt was the last article to go on, and she wrapped it around her waist just as Bessie started hollering for her to come quick, the inspector was at the door!

            Anya literally flew down the stairs after slipping back into her black pumps and landed just before she came into view of the door, hurrying the rest of the way on foot just as Marple opened the door for the inspector and Sergeant Lake. Slack's eyes turned to find the source of movement and locked in place, widening slightly as they took in her strange attire. The deep green suit gently hugged every inch of the young blonde's body, and she witnessed with pleasure the darkening of the inspector's cheeks.

            "Inspector, what a pleasant surprise," Anya said as she swept forward. "I'm sorry we were out for so long today. Aunt Jane and I rather got swept up with the shopping."

            Slack was so shocked at her attire that he was nearly quiet for a whole minute.

            "I-uh-is that new?" he stuttered.

            Anya smiled and twirled once in front of him and Lake. The suit covered her entirely, but the slender cut left almost nothing to the imagination. "Yes, just bought today. Aunt Jane treated me to a few new things. Do you like it?" Lake affirmed with a nod, complimenting her on the color choice. "You are too kind, Lake, thank you."

            Slack stayed silent, pointedly tearing his eyes away from her and looking instead to Miss Marple, who chose that time to ask the inspector what business could be so urgent that they had to drive over and collect both women immediately.

            "Ah." Slack was back in his element, relieved to focus on something other than the woman who left him feeling rather flustered. "Miss Marple, we have a case which, I believe, requires someone with your expertise. I also have a suspect who is not talking at all, and we need someone that can help her open up and talk to us."

            He looked to Anya and she nodded an affirmation. "Of course I will help, Inspector. We're ready to go now, aren't we, Aunt Jane?" she asked, reaching for the closet door.

            "Yes, dear, I am ready. Bessie, we may not be home till late again tonight, so please don't worry about dinner. But we may need some refreshments when we do get back," she told the young maid, who promptly nodded and hurried to help with their coats.

            The foursome was back outside within moments, and the men each held open a car door for the women. Anya sat beside Aunt Jane, and Slack closed the door behind her before getting in the passenger seat. Sergeant Lake was the driver to be barked at, this time. Slack filled them in on the facts of the case as they drove, explaining that this was another double murder, with poison as the choice of murder weapon. One immediate member of the family survived the Hambledon name, and the rest of the suspects were staff of the house. The story given was that a burglar broke into the house and poisoned the parents, leaving them for dead in their bed before taking jewelry and fleeing the scene.

            "Why would a burglar bring poison with him to use in a burglary?" Anya asked, sitting on the edge of her seat to better communicate with the two officers.

Slack turned to look back at her, his face nearly colliding with hers before he pulled back. She giggled at his near miss, watching him compose himself once more. He cleared his throat after a moment. "That is one of the things that doesn't make sense about this story. We believe it is one of the staff who did the poisoning."

            "Why not the last remaining family member?"

            Her quick mind caused Slack to smile for an instant. "Because, Anya, the family member is a ten-year-old girl," he said.

            She nodded, suddenly understanding. "And she is the 'suspect' that you need me to get talking for you."

            She sat back in her seat as Slack turned another brief smile on her. "Indeed, she is."

            The drive wore on for close to half an hour, most of it in silence. When they finally reached the large manor house where the murder had taken place, it was late afternoon. The dirt drive leading to the sprawling, forested grounds of Mansfield Manor was packed full of police vehicles, and the arched front doors were constantly opening and closing for the transport of evidence.

            Lake parked the car as close to the stone stairs as he could, then hopped out with Slack to let the women out of the car before heading into the house to begin work. Lake took Marple into the interrogation room to look at the evidence already gathered while Slack took Anya to the little girl she was supposed to help.

            "She hasn't said a word to anyone and appears to prefer the company of women to men. Three female officers have gone up to try and speak with her, but none of them have been able to get the child to utter a single word. I'm hoping you can be the one to get her talking. Do you think you can do it?" he asked, stopping outside a polished oak door.

            Anya shrugged. "I won't know until I try, but I will try my best," she assured.

            He nodded, knocking on the door. A woman allowed them entry and Slack nodded to her. She nodded back and turned her head to speak over her shoulder. "There's another woman out here that will talk to you, dear. Be sure to be a good girl and cooperate with her," she said with false kindness, stepping out into the hall with Anya and Slack.

            "Any change?" he asked, business-like as usual.

            The woman shook her head. "I can't get a word out of her. Perhaps your psychologist can."

            She brushed past the two of them, barely missing Anya's shoulder with her own. The angel's eyes were wide as the woman stalked off, her hands clenched into fists. Anya looked from the woman's straight, angry back to Slack, who seemed not to have noticed the silent exchange.

            "What is it?" he asked, startled by the look in her eyes. Suddenly she laughed, confusing him even more. "I don't understand. What's so amusing?"

            She shook her head, clutching her stomach as she fought back the tide of laughter that was aching to get out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Inspector, you have an admirer," she said, jerking her head in the direction of the woman.

            He looked over his shoulder and then back to her. "What do you mean? An admirer?"

            "Of course she is! You should speak to her. Perhaps you will like her, too. Don't worry, I will do what I can up here. I'm sure she will be ecstatic to see you out of my company," she said, patting him on the shoulder before she turned the door knob, leaving a bewildered Slack behind as she entered.

            Her attention focused sharply on the darling brunette child she saw clutching a teddy bear in a tiny white rocking chair, large doe eyes staring at the tall blonde woman who had just entered her room.

            Anya put on a big smile for the child and saw the hint of an answering one. "You are simply adorable. Oh, and look at this teddy! What a darling! What is his name, sweetling?" she asked, taking a seat she assumed the woman before had vacated.

            The young girl gave a tiny smile, blushing a little at the woman who complimented her bear. "His name's Cinnamon," she said in a small voice.

            Success! Three words so far and she hadn't been in the room for five minutes! She smiled at the girl. "That's a wonderful name. My name's Anya, Mr. Cinnamon. And what's your lady's name?"

            Anya simply oozed cheeriness, allowing her whole being to radiate warmth and comfort so that the poor dear could relax. It did seem to be working marvelously.

            "Ruby," the tiny voice said, her volume strengthening as the energy from Anya infiltrated her body.

            "That is a beautiful name, Miss Ruby! And I must say I do enjoy this room, too. It's so snug and comforting. And I bet Mr. Cinnamon is a wonderful friend, huh?" The little girl nodded. Anya smiled. "Especially today, right?" Another small nod, the smile flickering away from Ruby's face. Anya's tone became softer, tender, as if her voice were caressing the child. "I'm sure you're wondering why there are so many people in your house today, hmm?" she pressed carefully, keeping eye contact with the child.

            Ruby's eyes filled with tears and she clung to her teddy. "Because Mummy and Papa are in Heaven now," she whimpered, the first large tear dripping down her face.

            "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry." Anya went toward the child and wrapped her arms around her. She let the child cry herself out, wondering if she had even been allowed to do just that before she had had a trio of eager officers bearing down on her, hammering her fragile mind for a statement of events.

            She sat back once the child's crying had tapered off and wiped the sticky tears from her face with a stray handkerchief she found her clutching beneath the teddy.

            "There, now, do you feel a little better?" Little Ruby nodded, sitting back in her chair with Cinnamon clutched harder than before. Anya's heart nearly melted. "Very good. Crying helps a lot, dear. Don't let anyone tell you differently. It's always all right to cry," she said, receiving a small nod in return. Her tone softened again as she continued to try and coax a statement from the girl. "Yes, sweetling, Mummy and Papa are in Heaven now. And the police are here to find out how that happened. Do you know anything that can help them?"

            Ruby stared at her and seemed to think about what she should say. Finally, she shrugged. "I don't know, really."

            "That's all right. Any little detail will help the police, though. How about you tell me all you can remember from last night."

            Ruby looked away, clutching Cinnamon to herself. "I don't know. Cinnamon says I shouldn't."

            Anya managed a smile and cupped the girl's face in her hands. "I understand. Maybe you can ask Cinnamon again and see what he says? Can you ask him if you can tell me what happened?"

            Ruby smiled and nodded, pointing to the far side of the room. "Wait over there. Cinnamon doesn't like it when people watch us talk."

            Anya ruffled the girl's hair and stood, dutifully walking over to the corner she was directed to and standing with her back to the young girl. She heard the whispered conversation taking place behind her, but she was determined not to turn around until summoned. She would allow herself to be ordered around to gain the girl's trust. She must not punish the child for speaking with her teddy: Not after such a trauma. She didn't see how it could be wrong for a child to have a companion in her teddy, anyway.

            "Miss Anya, we're done talking."

            Anya turned and smiled at Ruby, walking briskly back to her chair. "And what does Mr. Cinnamon have to say, Ruby? Are you allowed to talk to me?"

            Ruby smiled and nodded. "Yes, he says I can trust you. He says that you're nice. You're not like those other police ladies. They weren't very nice."

            "Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that. Thank you for letting her speak, Mr. Cinnamon." She nodded to the bear, feeling slightly silly to be doing so. Her eyes found the girl's shining brown irises and she locked their eyes together, continuing to send friendly, comforting energy in heavy waves.

            "Now, I know this is going to be hard for you, but can you tell me what you saw last night? Take your time now, I won't rush you. I'll sit right here and listen." Ruby nodded, hiding half her face behind Cinnamon as she gathered the courage to begin. The room was silent and Anya kept her mouth shut and a smile on her lips, her body still as she kept her concentration. Of a sudden, Ruby started talking, rambling on and on about how her mother sent her to bed early because she refused to eat her dinner since Ruby insisted the cook was trying to poison her with chicken that was too pink. She had stormed around her room and shouted at her mother before she resolved to wash up and go to bed. Hours later, she heard her parents arguing before they went to bed themselves.

            As the child spoke, Anya was suddenly alerted to the presence of Slack as he walked up to the door to check on her progress.

            ~ _No, Inspector!_ ~ she sent, her tone sharper than she meant it. She heard a sort of stumble outside the door and felt his confusion.

            ~ _Anya? What is it?_ ~ he asked hesitantly.

            ~ _She's talking, Inspector. She should be done soon. Once she has finished, I will convince her to come and speak with you. I will need to be in the room while she does though, or I'm afraid it will not work_.~

            ~ _Excellent. Good job, Anya. I appreciate your effort. You'll find me downstairs._ ~

            He moved to leave when she stopped him, half her attention still on the speaking child. ~ _Did you speak with that woman yet?_ ~ she teased lightly.

            ~ _What? No, I did not. I will not waste my time chasing after a woman because you told me she fancies me_.~

            ~ _A pity, Inspector. I think you two would make a handsome couple_.~

            She heard him grunt through the door before he turned and walked off. She turned all her attention to the child once more, questioning her gently when she stopped mid-sentence while describing noises she heard in her parents' bedroom.

            A few minutes later, Anya had her statement from the child and was giving her high praise for cooperating with her. "You were very brave, Ruby. Now, can you be even braver for me?" Ruby nodded, anxious to please the woman who made her feel so good about herself. "Can you tell your story to one more person? His name is Inspector Slack, and he may look scary at first, but I promise you that he is a very nice man and that all he wants to do is help you, all right?"

            Ruby nodded slowly, suddenly not sure of what she agreed to. "Will you be with me?" she asked innocently, turning her large, fawn-colored eyes on Anya.

            She leaned forward and ruffled the girl's hair. "I most certainly will. It will be just like this, except Inspector Slack will be sitting right next to me. Do you think you can do that?" she asked.

            Ruby nodded. "Yes, ma'am. And Cinnamon can come too?"

            "Yes, Cinnamon will always stay with you. Come now, are you ready? Here, take my hand, and let's walk down together."

            Ruby clutched her hand as the two made their way to the door. Just as they walked out, Anya looked up to see Inspector Slack standing with his arms folded on the stairs, waiting for them impatiently.

            "Ah, that was quick. Well done, Anya. I decided to wait up here for you," he said to her raised eyebrow. He turned his attention to Ruby then and leaned over so that he was looking directly at her. "Now, miss, are you ready to speak with me?" he asked, putting on his best face for the child.

            Ruby half-hid herself behind Anya and she laughed, patting the child on the head. "It's all right, Ruby, I told you. He may look scary but he is a nice man, I promise."

            "I most certainly do not look scary!" he barked suddenly, his face screwing up into a mask of outrage at her statement.

            "You do, Inspector. Now stop scaring the poor child!"

            He changed his expression at once upon seeing the impact it had on the girl. He sighed and gave Anya an exasperated look. "Really," he breathed, turning and making his way down the stairs.

            Anya stifled a giggle as she moved to follow, keeping little Ruby's hand in hers. Ruby stuck close to Anya's side as she weaved her way through all the people in the hallway. They followed Slack into the interrogation room which had been cleared of everyone until after the girl's statement was taken. Slack pulled up three chairs, placing two together and one in front of the others. When Ruby saw what he had in mind, she clung even harder to Anya's side, making it difficult for her to move.

            "Very well. Inspector Slack will take the seat opposite us, all right? I will sit next to you, Ruby. You don't mind that, do you, Inspector?" she asked.

            He shook his head and took the solitary chair while Anya sat beside the little girl, allowing her to cling to her hand. Cinnamon hung in a bone-crushing hug in Ruby's other arm. Slack managed to smile at the girl, and she loosened somewhat. He began the barrage of questions, keeping his voice gentle and his tone light.     

            Whenever he seemed to get carried away in his quest for answers, Anya would sharply remind him to keep calm and remember who he was talking to. He found her interruptions rather officious and mother-like, but he endured them since, because of her, he was getting a statement from the little girl of the events leading up to the death of her parents.

            "So, did you know the person that came out of your parents' bedroom after the strange noises had stopped?" Slack asked as he slowly brought the interrogation to the final stretch.

             Ruby shook her head. "I thought it was Josephine coming to check on me, so I pretended to be asleep, but she never came in."

            "And what made you think that it was Josephine walking by?" Slack sat back in his chair, uncrossing his leg to let circulation back into it.

            "Well, it sounded like her shoes. She always did have a funny way of walking. She sort of shuffles instead of picking up her feet. But the person outside my door didn't shuffle, and so I knew it wasn't Josephine."

            "Could you tell if it was a man or a woman?"

            Ruby looked to Anya for comfort and the blonde patted her hand, smiling encouragingly to her. "Go on, dear."

            The child nodded and looked back to Slack. "I think it sounded like a woman. The butler stomps a lot, so you can usually tell if it's him coming down the hall."

            "But the person outside your door didn't stomp. And that's what makes you think it was a woman?"

            Ruby nodded.

            ~ _A female suspect, then_ ,~ Anya relayed.

            Slack looked at her. ~ _It does seem that way. At least that'll narrow down the search. I know at least one of the servants was away for two days tending her sick mother, so she's off the list_.~ He looked up to smile at Ruby. "Thank you, miss Ruby. You have been very helpful tonight. I'm sure you're hungry, so why don't you go and get some dinner now?" He stood then, towering over the little girl, and she suddenly seemed very afraid of him once more.

            "Come now, Ruby, let's go find a maid to bring you some dinner. What do you say?" Anya quickly jumped to the rescue, ushering the little girl out of the room and in the direction of the dining hall. She found a maid to take the child to the hall and get her some food.

            "Aren't you coming, miss?" Ruby called back to her.

            "I'm sorry, Ruby, but I must help Inspector Slack. You understand, I'm sure?" The girl smiled and nodded that she did. "You take good care of Cinnamon, and make sure he gets his fill of dinner too, all right?" Ruby assured her emphatically that she would take good care of Cinnamon, and hurried off to do just that.

            Anya made her way back to where Slack was standing by the chalkboard he kept notes on, poring over everything that he had written in an attempt to crack the case here and now.

            "I just don't know, Lake. Who stood to gain here?" He turned and, seeing that it was Anya, instead turned the conversation toward her. "I can't understand this, Anya. Why should one of the servants wish to kill their master and mistress? There is no monetary motive here: None at all. A woman scorned, perhaps? The master was having an affair with a maid, ended it, and she took her revenge on them both?" He sat down heavily in his chair with a sigh.

            "It is a possibility," she acknowledged, attempting to make him feel at least a little better. "How many people can be crossed off the list of suspects?"

            "Two. The butler and the one maid who was gone for two days. That leaves at least fifteen maids and cooks' help, and we've interviewed them all already."

            "Did anyone in particular stand out?"

            "No, not at all. And Miss Marple doesn't have any new ideas, either. Though she was mentioning something about a thieving maid in the town some years ago. I don't know. I can never make out that old woman when she goes on about the village folk."

            "That is where she gets her references from, you know, Inspector. She links suspects with people she's known in the town, and gets her understanding of life from the different personalities she has witnessed over the years. Rather remarkable, I'd say."

            He grunted, his attention drawn back to the board with his notes, only half-listening to what she was telling him. She sighed and sat down in the chair she had previously vacated. She found herself watching him as he poured over his notes with wrinkled eyebrows, noting this and that and marking things that linked together, muttering to himself the whole while.

            When he threw up his hands and turned, rubbing his temples vigorously, he finally noticed that Anya hadn't left him. "What is it?" he asked, continuing the attentions to his temples.

            She screwed up her brow with worry, noticing the bags under his eyes that were suddenly very prominent. "You've been avoiding sleep, Inspector," she stated softly.

            He glanced from the board to her and then back again. "Why do you say that?"

            "You're tired: Anyone can see that. You must not let your work deprive you of sleep. That would be counterproductive, you know." 

            "I know exactly what I need and when I need it, thank you. Right now, I am focused on this case so that it can be solved as quickly as possible."

            "You have been lucky so far, Inspector, but not all cases are solved in one day. Write your notes down and take them with you if you must, but I insist that you let this lie and get some sleep. Tackle this problem again tomorrow when you are fresh. We overcame a huge obstacle today getting Ruby's statement and narrowing down the suspect list, yes?" He nodded reluctantly. "Then, please, leave the grunt work till tomorrow. I promise to come back with you to sit through interrogations. All day, if needed. I know your work is important to you and that you want to find this murderer, but killing yourself in the process will help no one," she explained.

            He sighed heavily, seeing reason in her words and yet not wishing to leave the premises when he was so close to the answer. "Very well." He stood and gathered whatever hand-written notes he had together into a portfolio. "Lake!" he bellowed, hurrying the sergeant's entrance into the room. "Gather everything for the night. We'll summon people to headquarters tomorrow for interrogations. I want a watch posted all night. Make sure no one leaves the premises. Arrest them if they do." Lake nodded and hurried off to relay the chief inspector's orders.   

             Anya stood to help put the room back in order, moving chairs back and helping Slack gather up the paperwork to put into folders for processing. The two of them bumped shoulders while reaching for the same paper and exchanged apologies quickly, Anya laughing nervously at the fact. She continued until she noticed that Slack hadn't moved.

            "Anya?" She looked up at him, her eyes posing a question. Slack looked nervous, shifting his feet before he began. "I wanted to thank you for getting Ruby to speak to me. It was excellent work and I do appreciate it."

            She beamed at him. "Of course, Inspector. It was my pleasure. She is a darling girl once you get to know her. And Cinnamon is quite adorable, too. Perhaps tomorrow, if we manage to finish the interrogations early, I wonder if you might like to have tea with Aunt Jane and I? We could talk about the case some more if you wish, or speak on another subject for a change to give all our minds a rest. What do you think?" She glanced at him, catching his eye before quickly lowering her gaze once more.

            "I think I would like that," he muttered.

            She gave him a brief, embarrassed smile. "Very well, then. I shall tell Aunt Jane once we are finished in here." 

            It did not take them long to finish, and then they separated as Anya set off to tell Aunt Jane about their new appointment. Slack set about arranging the clean-up in the rest of the house. Anya found Marple in the library having tea with a few of the women in the police force. She smiled when she saw Anya come in and the women finished their tea and left quite suddenly as the shouts from Slack rose in volume behind them. Anya flinched, then rushed to the old woman's side to tell her of her invitation for the inspector to take tea with them tomorrow.

            "Oh, how nice of you to offer, Anya. Yes, of course he can come. The both of you will be exhausted from your questioning to want to talk much once you are comfortable, though, I imagine. But I am very glad he accepted, dear, very glad indeed. Do you like him very much?"

            It was a sudden question, one she had not given much thought to. "I do like him, Aunt Jane. But right now, I believe it is in the beginning stages. I do not know what his feelings are, or if he even has any for me. I do not even know if it is right for me to have such feelings for him, as it might affect my protecting him. What do you think?"

            "I think that love is the greatest thing we can fight for on this earth, Anya. If you cannot fight for love, then what do you have? I believe that if you do find you love him, then you will be a great force to be reckoned with by anyone who would wish him harm."

            Anya smiled, thinking that that was the truest thing she had ever heard. She sat and nibbled on a biscuit while Aunt Jane bounced ideas off her about the case, pleased and most interested to hear the account the little girl had to tell of the sounds she had heard in the night.

            "A woman? Yes, perhaps. Very doable for a woman, I believe."

            Anya let her ramble, knowing the old woman would come out with her meaning when she was ready. She had to first establish what she meant to herself first.

            Slack entered the library much later, apologizing for the time delay. "Lake and I will drop you at your house before we head on," he announced, and both women expressed their gratitude.

            They headed for the front door, gathering their coats and gloves from the butler before exiting the large manor house, leaving behind the little girl Anya had developed a remarkable bond with. She was sorry to go. Slack ushered her into the car, remarking sharply that she would catch her death of cold if she did not hurry. She gave him a winning smile that silenced him in an instant, and stepped into the car to keep him from standing there, sputtering all the while.

            The drive home was as unremarkable as it was coming to the house. The four companions stayed silent for most of the ride, speaking only hesitantly on the events of that day. No one really wished to revisit the case now that they were heading to a warm bed and sleep that would take their cares away. It seemed to take no time at all to get back to the house, and Slack once again was there to open the car door for Anya to get out. Marple was already heading for the inviting warmth of her house as Anya was saying her goodnights to Slack and Lake.

            She turned to go inside herself when she felt a slight pull on her coat sleeve and Slack's voice softly calling her name. She stopped and turned back to him, wondering what he could have to say. He looked everywhere but at her for a moment as he gathered himself.

            "If you wish, Anya, you may call me 'Slack' from now on. Not inspector anymore. I would give you my first name, but no one calls me by that anyway, so my surname is what people use who know me well." He stopped, shuffling his feet slightly. "I believe you said earlier that we have developed a rather informal relationship now, so I will answer to that name from now on," he declared stiffly, thoroughly astonishing her into silence.

            She did not know what to say, and stood dumbstruck for what felt like forever. Finally, she pulled herself together and gave him another smile. "Thank you very much for this change. It pleases me greatly. I shall see you tomorrow at the interrogations, and then for tea afterward. Goodnight, Slack."

            It felt strange to utter that name now. She turned and walked away, hearing his goodnight before his car door slammed shut. She heard him bark an order to Lake and the car sped off, making her laugh. Her address to him may have changed, but nothing else had.

            She hurried into the house to tell Aunt Jane about the newest happening, her laughter echoing through the village.


	5. Chapter 5

           The day of interrogations was hectic, yet boring in its own way. Anya and Slack were in the county police department all day, stuck in a stuffy white room interviewing witnesses, only stopping once for a short break for tea and a few sandwiches before they were at it again.

            Fifteen witnesses were interviewed that day. It was nearly dinner time when the last one was re-examined because of a slight lie she had been caught in. Anya did not know if she was suddenly failing at her lie detection or if she was just tired because none of the maids or cooks' help showed themselves to be liars. Even Slack looked mildly irritated by her once they had finished for the day. She supposed the murderer could be that good that she was telling the truth the whole time, only leaving those bits out which incriminated her.

            Anya was forced to conclude that nothing but the best police work was what was going to solve this case. Slack got up to get a drink of water once the last suspect had left, and Anya sighed and leaned on the table, resting her head on her arms in defeat. She closed her eyes as her thoughts got carried away. Had she missed something? Were her senses failing her today? She couldn't help but think that somehow it was her fault that all the interrogations seemed to flop. Oh dear, she still had to sit through tea with Slack today, as well. How would that go over? Perhaps Aunt Jane will have come up with a brilliant deduction by the time they got there, she mused.

            Slack entered the room again with a glass of water for Anya and found her with her eyes closed and resting. He moved silently toward her and placed the cup down gently by her head, not wishing to disturb her. He turned then and headed back toward the door, intending to pour over his notes once more and bounce ideas off Lake.

            ~ _I'm sorry I failed you, Slack_.~ The sudden voice in his head made him jump and nearly fall into the doorframe. He turned to see Anya's eyes on him. "I don't know what's wrong with me today," she said aloud, sitting up from her position, rubbing the back of her head in irritation. She stopped as she glanced at the glass. "Thanks for the water." She drank a few sips and placed it back on the table.

            "You didn't fail me," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "We just have to bag this case with hard evidence this time, that's all." She smiled, and he looked away from her.

            "I'm afraid that with this change of events I won't be able to make it for tea," he said. Her hand tightened around the glass of water and then slowly relaxed. Otherwise, her demeanor didn't change.

            She put on a brave smile for him. "Of course, Slack. I understand. It was probably wrong of me to ask you to such a thing on a day as this when I knew how it could be. Please, don't worry about it. Perhaps we'll do it another time." She stood then, her eyes pointed at her feet as she moved to the door. He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps even take back what he had said, but the words never came. And during his struggle, she passed him by and was out the door, saying a quick farewell before she was gone. She heard someone vying for his attention as she left, and tried not to show how upset she was.

 

            She was back at Aunt Jane's place before she knew it. She made her way up to the door when she stopped, her hand poised just above the handle. No, perhaps she was not quite in the mood to face Aunt Jane's knowing eyes just then. She sighed and turned, walking briskly back down the short path to the road, side-stepping lightly to avoid a car moving exceptionally fast for its surroundings. She found that her feet did not want a leisurely stroll but that they were in the mood for a more vigorous exercise, one that would tire her and allow her to bring her thoughts away from the man she had left just a short while ago.

            She found herself straying from the road then, heading toward Gossington Hall, once home to a dear friend of Aunt Jane's. She was a Mrs. Dolly Bantry, a woman Anya had yet to meet. The woman moved to Gossington Lodge after her husband, Arthur, died whilst the larger hall had been sold to a famous movie star named Marina Gregg who had taken her own life just half a year ago, amidst two murders she had committed. 

            Gossington Hall, Anya understood, was set in the middle of a large expanse of woods that Anya suddenly wished to go for a stroll through. Perhaps she would leave her handbag and shift forms to fly for a while. She felt she had to do something strenuous before she could go back to the prying eyes of Aunt Jane. The old woman would pester her mercilessly to understand what on earth would have changed the inspector's mind to keep him from the person who, the old woman mused, was his newfound lover.

            Anya sighed, hurrying from the thinning road into the stand of trees on Gossington Hall property. A few yards in, Anya deposited her coat, gloves, and handbag, making sure they were covered well in the case of any passersby in this area. It was better for her to be safe than sorry, she mused as she moved to shift forms, launching herself effortlessly from the ground. Her wings seemed eager today, willing her to fly higher and further than she had since she her arrival. She passed by a murder of crows, the birds watching her curiously, not making a sound as they watched her pass by swiftly, the angel never pausing to look around her.

            She was flying so fast that the wind made her eyes tear up and goosebumps to crawl up her arms. Were the tears dripping down her face only from the wind or also a reaction to what had happened earlier? No, her emotions were not that involved, she found. She had been hurt, yes, more so than she would admit to anyone, but she did not think that Slack's cancellation had affected her quite that much. She would see him again. There was bound to be another interrogation, another child who wouldn't speak unless befriended, another tea date to set . . .

            She had let herself go on thinking for so long that she realized with a start that her wings had taken her well past St. Mary Mead. She was now in a whole other village, one she didn't recognize at all. "Oh dear," she muttered, banking to the right in an effort to turn around. It was well past lunch time when she had left the police station, and now it was close to supper, the sun moving to drop to the other side of the world as the planet continued its ceaseless rotation. It would be dark in another hour, and she still had to get back to her things and then to Aunt Jane's house!

            She could not fly as fast as she had earlier, but in no way was she slow as she raced back to the spot where she had hidden her few possessions. It would not do to worry Aunt Jane, as the old woman did not have as strong a constitution as she used to.        

            She returned to her belongings and was setting off down the road on foot to return to Aunt Jane's house just as the sun was putting on a most spectacular display of colors across the sky. She buttoned her coat and slipped on her gloves slowly as she marveled at the changing of the sky. A few minutes later, the sun was lost behind the trees, sinking lower and lower, the shadows lengthening as first twilight and then the night slowly rolled over the land. In no time, it was getting rather dark, and Anya could barely see anything. 

            She turned from her spot and began walking briskly down the road, intent on reaching Aunt Jane's house before the woman sent a search party for her. She had just passed the first shop when a car coming toward her suddenly slowed as the headlights caught her in their glare. She shielded her eyes, stopping abruptly on the side of the road. Her muscles tightened and her hands clenched into fists, her body moving to a defensive position as the car screeched to a halt and the passenger side door flew open.

            "Anya!" She sighed, her body relaxing as Slack trotted up to her from the side of the car. He crossed in front of the headlights as the driver opened the door. Lake, presumably, was poking his curly head out to see if she was all right. Slack halted in front of her, suddenly at a loss for words.

            "Well, you gave me a fright!" she snapped impulsively. "For Heaven's sake, what are you doing out here?" she asked, looking past him to the car.

            "We were looking for you. Miss Marple called the station about an hour after you left and asked if we were still interrogating people. I told her you had gone home but she said you hadn't turned up yet. She asked me to look for you. Where have you been?" he snapped right back.

            "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Now, I am fine, as you can see, and am heading back to Aunt Jane's place. Thank you for looking for me. I must go now." She excused herself rather brusquely, side-stepping him quickly to continue with her journey. A sudden hand on her coat sleeve prevented her from moving off.

            "Anya, I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have canceled on you last minute like that. I know that you're still angry with me, but will you permit us to at least give you a lift home?" Slack kept his tone light in view of the circumstances.

           She turned her head sharply to look at him but her face was in the shadows, the headlights creating a rather sardonic halo affect around her head, and he could not see her expression. "Thank you for the offer, but I must decline. It is not far for me to walk and I can take care of myself despite what you may still think. Now, if you'll excuse me. Goodnight, Inspector."

           He let go of her sleeve more in surprise than anything else as he caught her abrupt referral back to his title. As she passed the car, she heard Lake asking if she was sure she didn't want a lift, and her demeanor completely changed as she smiled and thanked him while graciously declining. Then she was gone, her heels clicking away on the pavement rapidly, the speed of her walk emphasizing her anger. 

            Anya found herself back at Aunt Jane's house quicker than she had imagined, and the old woman was overjoyed to see her home again. She fretted and waggled a thin finger at her while she stripped off her coat and gloves.

            "Aunt Jane, I am perfectly all right. Why did you send Slack to look for me? You needn't have worried! You know I can take care of myself!" She controlled the level of her voice as she realized it had risen with every sentence. The bewildered look on the old woman's face made her sigh. "I'm sorry. I've had a rather rough day. I shouldn't have gone off like that without telling you, either. I just wanted to be alone for a bit and gather my thoughts."

            "You must have had many to gather! Why weren't you and Inspector Slack here for tea? Why did you leave him at the police station and go off to be alone in the first place?" the woman probed, leading Anya forcibly by the arm into the sitting room. Anya fell heavily into her chair as Aunt Jane summoned Bessie to make some quick sandwiches and bring tea. "You haven't eaten all day, my dear. The inspector told me. So, you will sit there and eat until I am satisfied that you are full," she said to Anya's protest. The angel surrendered, leaning back in the chair as she rubbed her temples gently. "Now, tell me what happened today and leave nothing out," Aunt Jane demanded.

            And so, Anya related all the happenings of that day to the old woman, telling her of the failures in the interrogation room, how Slack had suddenly canceled their tea date, and how she had left him shortly after and gone off to the woods behind Gossington Hall for a fly. She told her of the inspector's car when he and Lake finally found her, and of what she had said to Slack. As she repeated the events, Anya found that she was ashamed at how she had received Slack when he and Lake had been looking for her for hours. She would have to do something. She may have been angry with him for earlier, but the fact that he had spent hours looking for her should have been enough to make it up to her. Her countenance relaxed then, and she felt at ease with this realization, finding that she could very well forgive him now as she should have before. 

            "I have been very foolish, Aunt Jane. He will be angry with me, I think. I treated him terribly. I must make this up to him, and Sergeant Lake, as well. They both took precious time out of their day to look for me, and I repaid them with anger and unkindness." She sighed. "I am a very poor example of an angel, aren't I?" The old woman smiled, pleased with this understanding the blonde had come to on her own. "You were a poor example of an angel a moment ago, dear, but now I believe you have grown within the last few minutes. You must show the inspector how much you have grown, as well, and he will be sure to forgive you." The abrupt honesty from the old woman surprised Anya, and yet she felt better about herself than she had all day with that one simple statement. She nodded in response and set to eating all the sandwiches that Bessie put in front of her with a hunger she didn't know she had.

            Once she had finished, the two women relaxed in the small sitting room sipping on tea, each thinking their own thoughts until Anya finally spoke. "What can I possibly do to make this up to the both of them, Aunt Jane? I can think of nothing that even comes close to the selflessness they showed me." She shook her head vigorously, hoping some brilliant answer would show itself to her.

            "Invite them to tea, dear." Anya looked up, puzzled.

            "What? To tea? How could that possibly—?" Aunt Jane's eyes pierced her own, silencing her as quickly if she had shouted.

            "You will walk to the police station tomorrow and leave a note inviting them to afternoon tea. Once they have come and you have given them your apologies, I will proceed to solve this puzzling case for them." Her eyes snapped back to the fire in the hearth, and Anya saw the faintest of smiles on her face.

            "Oh, Aunt Jane, you wonderful creature!" Anya set her tea cup down carefully and rushed to hug the old woman, shocking an "Oh!" from her as she laughed at the angel's enthusiasm.

            "'Wonderful'? No, dear, but I might as well make it worth their while to come here other than to hear your apology. I think the combination will put them in a greater mood than one or the other ever could, don't you think so?"

            Anya laughed aloud. "Oh, I very much think so! You clever, clever woman, Aunt Jane! I knew you would figure this one out as well: You can never fail, no matter what case is thrown at you!"

            The old woman smiled, clearly enjoying the praise the young angel was giving her. "You are a darling. Now, finish your tea and get some rest. You have an important task tomorrow." The angel nodded fervently, gulping the rest of her tea down before hurrying upstairs to change into her nightgown. Oh, what a day! To think a day that started out so negatively could end so happily! Anya found it very difficult to relax that night, but eventually, sleep did claim her. 

 

            She was awake nearly before Aunt Jane and was dressing into one of her new gowns, the deep purple one that hugged her figure from the waist up and splayed rather prettily on down to her calves. She ate breakfast as quickly as her stomach could handle, and then scribbled a note to be delivered to the two officers before heading out the door, Aunt Jane smiling after her.

            If she had been of a mind to, Anya would have run the whole way to the station, but she allowed the walk to calm her nerves so that she may enter the station without cause for embarrassment. She wouldn't want it reported that a crazy woman had come in carrying a note for the chief inspector and his sergeant, would she? She giggled at the thought, stifling her laugh with a hand as her eyes caught two ladies walking by. They looked at her strangely, but once she shouted a merry "Good morning!" and walked on, the women soon forgot it and simply marveled at how cheery she was.

            Even after forcing herself to walk slowly, it seemed to take a shorter time than she anticipated for her to reach the station. She looked around as she entered, hoping for the first time not to see Slack and Lake to make the surprise that much more enticing. She entered the station quickly, keeping her eyes peeled for the two men, and walked straight up to the front desk, handing the note over quickly to one of the receptionists.

            "Ma'am, I have a request. This note is for Chief Inspector Slack's eyes only. Please give it to him as soon as you see him," she instructed carefully, making sure there was no mistake as to who the note was for. She met the woman's eyes squarely and the receptionist nodded, repeating her orders to Anya's satisfaction. "Thank you very much," she said, turning abruptly to leave.

            She was out of the precinct and across the street without incident when she heard the tell-tale voice of Slack barking at someone, and looked to see his car pull up and park. She watched the older man jump out first, his suit trim and perfect as ever as he took the stairs two at a time into the station. Lake quickly jumped out after him and raced up the stairs, nearly forgetting to turn the car off in his haste. She moved further off down the street, nearly out of sight of the front doors, but suddenly found herself holding back as if waiting for something.

            Less than a minute later, she saw Slack dart back out the front doors, looking left and right wildly, her note clenched in his hand. Anya smiled and, like magic, his eyes turned directly toward hers. They were both caught in each other's gaze for a moment before he opened his mouth to call her name, the hand holding the note rising in what seemed like slow motion. She lifted her hand in a small wave, then suddenly shifted forms, disappearing right in front of his eyes. She watched from her same position as he jumped, startled, looking left and right again for her.

            ~ _Don't cancel this time!_ ~ she laughed to him and spread her wings, flying back the way she had come to Aunt Jane's house to prepare for their meeting, leaving a dumbstruck Slack behind.

            The clock on the wall seemed to jumped forward an hour every time she watched it as Aunt Jane and she hurried to make the house look presentable, something that did not take very long at all. Soon, Aunt Jane gave instructions to Bessie for what was to be made for tea time, and went into the backyard to do some gardening, passing the time as only she enjoyed doing. 

            Anya was left in the house to find something to do for the next few hours. She sat in a corner and snatched a book from one of Aunt Jane's shelves, a mystery novel that had been read dozens of times. She managed to read the first few sentences before her mind began to wander and her heart to beat faster, wondering if Slack would come this time or if he would blow it off again. He certainly seemed like he had wanted to find her that morning, she mused. It was rather fun teasing him like that, though she did realistically hope there would come a time where a stunt like that would not work. That would be the day he actually believed her tale.

            Leaving the book on the arm of the chair as a hopeless cause, she walked outside to join Aunt Jane in the backyard, reclining in one of the old woman's comfortable wicker chairs. She leaned back, allowing the sun to bathe her in its warm light, a slight cooling breeze ruffling her hair and preventing the sun from being too warm. Spring was on its way. The last week had been mildly comfortable during the day and bitterly cold at night, but the weather seemed to have taken a turn for the better. She closed her eyes, allowing her thoughts to drift and for her body to relax. She must think about what she had to say to the two once they arrived, and how she could best convince them of her sincerity. 

            Her thoughts shifted then to Aunt Jane and how she could have figured out this confusing case in such a short time without seeing Slack or anyone in days to give her updates. Anya hoped that she was right in her prediction. Well, she had no reason to doubt such a clever woman.

            She must have drifted off for a while because suddenly Bessie was shouting something to Aunt Jane and shaking Anya's arm to wake her. "Miss, miss, come quickly! The inspector and sergeant have just pulled up outside!" Anya's eyes flew open and she hurried to her feet, quickly glancing down to make sure her appearance hadn't been altered too much. She smoothed her dress and asked Bessie to check her hair. Bessie quickly took out her long tail and put it back the way it was, smoothing a few stray strands she found just as the doorbell rang.

            "Go, Bessie, quickly!" Anya ushered her to the door, turning to see Aunt Jane hurrying toward her, brushing loose soil from her hands.

            "I will tell Bessie to show them out here for tea. Such a beautiful day should not be wasted. I must wash quickly. You may begin your apologizing while I am doing that, and then I shall make my entrance to close the show, as it were," she said, patting the angel's shoulder gently before hurrying off.

            Anya smiled after her, inwardly thanking the woman for such a brilliant idea once more. She was sure that nothing could go wrong now that both men were here. She smoothed her dress again unconsciously and, flicking off invisible dust particles, came to attention as Bessie walked briskly through the open back door, Slack and Lake just behind her. Slack looked rather awkward, something she hadn't seen from him yet. Lake, however, appeared to be silently enjoying this new turn of events.

            "Good afternoon," Anya said brightly, putting on a cheery smile for them. Lake smiled back and hurried in front of the inspector to take her outstretched hand, greeting her with the same amount of cheeriness. Slack's handshake was not as excitable, but he did give her a small smile that she accepted nevertheless. "Please, sit down." She motioned for them to take their seats and looked back at Bessie. "If you could bring tea now, Bessie, I would be grateful," she said. The maid smiled and bowed her head slightly, hurrying off to bring the refreshments.

            Anya pulled up a chair and sat facing the two gentlemen. The backyard was strangely silent, the birds and other small creatures quieting as if they were eager to hear her apology as well. She would not draw this out, she told herself, and lifted her eyes to meet Slack's. "I must apologize to the both of you for my actions last night. I was rather foolish. You must have thought me a child with the way I treated the generosity you showed by looking for me. I am heartily ashamed of myself, and wished to apologize personally to both of you and to tell you how very much I appreciate and thank you for your troubles. I am indebted to you both." Lake smiled while Slack only nodded in acknowledgement of her acceptance of guilt.

            "You didn't have to call a meeting like this just to apologize, Miss Anya," Lake said. His smile was infectious, and she felt her own lips turning up in return.

            "I didn't know what I should do to make it up to the both of you. I still don't, though Aunt Jane perhaps will help with that." 

            "Yes, about that," Slack cut in. "The note you left said that Miss Marple had something of great importance to tell us. What is it, exactly?"

            Anya smiled. "I think I shall let her do the honors. Aunt Jane?" She turned her head just as the old woman made her way slowly out the back door toward the table, Bessie on her heels with the tea and cakes.

            "Thank you, dear. Yes, I believe it would be best if I told you myself," Aunt Jane said. Lake jumped to his feet and pulled out the remaining chair for the old woman, to which she graciously thanked him and sat down, gathering herself together to begin her story. Slack glanced from the old woman to Anya and saw that, with a start, she was already looking at him. She smiled briefly when he caught her staring and shifted her eyes to Aunt Jane.

            ~ _Are we still friends?_ ~ The worry that he sent with his thought made her smile all the more as she glanced back at him, seeing the emotion mirroring lightly in his eyes.

            ~ _Of course, Slack. I was hoping this meeting would restore that. I have your forgiveness, then?_ ~ she asked meekly, bowing her head in his direction. He nodded once, smiling briefly, and leaned back in his chair, relaxing visibly in front of her now that that necessary had been taken care of. 

            Aunt Jane cleared her throat, making them both jump before turning their attention back to her, Lake smiling slyly beside Slack. Anya stood to break the silence, and poured the tea for everyone. The first cup she gave to Aunt Jane. As the old woman thanked her, her piercing eyes shifted from one man to the other. Lake's tea was poured next, and he thanked her before watching like a hawk as she poured the third cup of tea for Slack. He took the saucer gently, and their eyes suddenly locked together when their fingers brushed. Anya didn't know how long they were caught staring at each other before the sharp sound of Aunt Jane clearing her throat suddenly broke the spell. The two looked away, and Anya quickly filled her own cup before resuming her seat, her eyes finding solace in the branches of a small shrub as her cheeks burned briefly.

            Before the color had completely left her face, Aunt Jane began speaking, turning the attention from their brief encounter to the case she had managed to solve. "Now," she said, pulling everyone's eyes to her, "the second reason why you gathered here is to hear the answers to the questions that have plagued you these past couple of days. In other words," she fixed Slack with twinkling eyes, "I have solved the case, Chief Inspector."

            He sighed, placing his tea cup on the table before him. "I had a feeling something like this would happen." He folded his arms and looked back at Aunt Jane.

            Lake did not seem surprised either, but he was not displeased. "Please, Miss Marple. How was it done?" he asked, leaning forward eagerly in his chair.

            She chuckled, clearly enjoying herself in front of the two. Anya rolled her eyes as she sipped at her tea. This should be an interesting story. She didn't even know the answer to the case, herself, as Aunt Jane would not give her any hints, saying she had to wait just like everyone else.

            "Chief Inspector, who was the maid that the young lady Ruby favored above all others?" He picked up his cup again, relinquishing himself to play the old woman's game.

            "Her name was Holly. But how did you know that she was Ruby's favorite?" His eyes looked daggers at the old woman but she was unfazed, the smile she turned on him irritating as usual.

            "I used my eyes, Chief Inspector. You see, Holly was the only maid I witnessed the girl talking to beside our own dear Anya. It was very clever how you gained her friendship, dear. I am very proud of you," she said matter-of-factly as she patted Anya's hand, bringing color back to the angel's cheeks. "Now," Aunt Jane turned back to business. "Holly, you see, has a criminal background, yes?" Slack nodded, cocking an eyebrow curiously. Aunt Jane nodded as if to affirm her suspicions, and continued. "You see, Chief Inspector, Mrs. Hambledon knew of Holly's past, and she was blackmailing the poor woman. Holly was waiting for a chance to kill Mrs. Hambledon, and to be sure, Mr. Hambledon, as well. Holly didn't know if the wife had told her husband of her past or not, so killing the both of them would be safer, she reasoned. And, since she was close to the little girl, Ruby, she must have known about the incredible fortune the girl would inherit, and so counted on the friendship she had to plan the rest of her future. 

            "The cook, Mrs. Gregory, I noticed, has terrible eye sight, but she appears to not have had a problem in the kitchen, presumably because she knows the room so well. Her eye sight was not very much of a problem until a desperate woman handed her a bottle of poison rather than what the cook had called for, and the poor woman unknowingly put poison into the tea that was then sent up to the parents of poor little Ruby. Holly brought up the tea herself and waited outside the door to hear the last death throes of the two before she entered and stole some jewelry to make it look like a burglar who specialized in poisoning people on the side. Rather a foolish move, but there you have it." The three at the table were staring at her, dumbfounded.

            "And you figured this out—?" Slack began, trying to follow the thought patterns of the old woman.

            "Ah, well, it came to me gradually. Things began to fit together after Sergeant Lake informed me that the maid had a criminal past and that she was close to the daughter. " She sipped her tea slowly while the three exchanged glances.

            "Is that all it took for you to come to that conclusion, Aunt Jane?" Anya inquired further.

            The old woman looked at her. "What, dear? Oh, well, no, I had more help from Sergeant Lake on that, I must confess. I kept in contact with him the next day while you and Chief Inspector Slack were performing your interviews all day, Anya." Slack and Anya looked at Lake and the sergeant smiled, embarrassed, his eyes staring intently at his tea cup.

            "And what sort of help did Sergeant Lake give to you?" Slack demanded dangerously.

            Aunt Jane waved away his unfounded anger. "He simply told me of the letter that was found in Holly's room. It was not signed with any name, but it let the girl know that her past was known and that she would not long be employed at the hall. It was then that I realized that it had to be one of the Hambledons, but which one? And then Sergeant Lake was kind enough to let me know that when a writing sample from a letter that had been written by Mr. Hambledon was compared to the mystery letter, no match was found. That fact alone led me to the wife being the blackmailer. I can only assume that Holly killed Mr. Hambledon because she didn't want to take the chance that his wife had told him about her history."

            "Once again you marvel us, Miss Marple," Slack said ruefully, finishing the last of his tea. "I must thank you for your findings. I admit that I couldn't wait to get this case over with." He glanced at Anya, and she nodded in agreement. This was the first case that had seemed to divide them, and she was glad to have it done, as well.

            "Oh no, Chief Inspector. I was simply helping you for your sake, as well as Anya's. This case seemed to be quite a hassle for the both of you," she said knowingly. They glanced at each other and looked away quickly.

            "You are keen as always, Aunt Jane," Anya said.

            The old woman smiled in a teasing manner and decided to shift the subject, entering the next phase of her secret plan. "Now that that business has been finished, why don't we talk about something more cheerful? Anya." She turned to the angel, holding her complete attention. "I have invited my nephew, Durmot, here next week to stay with us for a little while. He wrote to me yesterday saying that he needed a short vacation in a quiet part of the country, and wondered if he could clear his head here with me. I told him of your staying with me and he seemed intrigued, so I thought it would be a good idea to invite him."

            Anya nodded, curious about this nephew of hers. "Of course, Aunt Jane. I have no problem with that."

            "Good. Now," she fixed her sharp eyes on Slack, pinning him to his chair. "do you remember Durmot, Chief Inspector? Of course, you know him by his title as Detective Inspector Craddock. You do remember his help at Gossington Hall when Marina Gregg was still alive?" Her tone was rather defensive, surprising Anya greatly. Anya was wondering what had brought up the subject. Of course, she had no issue with Aunt Jane inviting an actual family member to stay with her, but why was she being so open and obvious about it in front of Slack? What was she trying to accomplish? Try as she might, Anya didn't have the faintest clue.

            "Yes, I remember him. He was a great help to the case, as well as yourself," Slack admitted grudgingly. Miss Marple nodded once in agreement, pleased that he could admit as much.

            "You've never mentioned your nephew to me before, Aunt Jane. Is he the only one you have?"

            "Oh no, dear. My other nephew is a novelist: Raymond West. You've never heard of him, dear. I do have some of his books that I'll let you read if you're so inclined, though. But, Durmot, he was always a good boy. Well-mannered and soft-spoken, he quite surprised both his mother and I when he decided he wished to go into the police force. Of course, it was his decision to make and the family was pleased, anyway. The last time he was here was when the movie star Marina Gregg had taken over Gossington Hall from Dolly Bantry. Do you remember me telling you of that? Yes, well, shortly after, there were two murders, and we didn't realize until after her suicide that it was Marina Gregg herself that had been the murderer." And so, Aunt Jane related the whole case to Anya. Lake and Slack already knew the particulars. The chief inspector interjected a few comments of his own, but stayed rather quiet throughout the whole story, his attention directed elsewhere.

            "That sounds like a fascinating case, though I am sorry for those poor women. Does Marina Gregg's husband still live there?"

            "Oh yes, he is still there. He has even promised to host the annual garden party this year for the village, and to keep hosting it as long as he lives in honor of his wife who did so enjoy it."

            "I'd love to see this place and attend my first garden party. It sounds lovely!" Lake expressed an interest, as well, and they both suddenly chattered on about what was at a garden party, what sorts of foods, music, and dancing the angel would see when it finally arrived. Miss Marple and Slack sat silent, listening to the two prattle on, both envying the energies of the youth sitting in their midst.

            The faint ringing of the phone suddenly caught Anya's ear, and she drew the conversation to a halt as she looked through the back door. Unfortunately, she could not see through to the front hall, but very faintly heard the receiver picked up mid-ring by Bessie. A few moments later, the maid hurried into the backyard, informing the party that the phone call was for Chief Inspector Slack. He excused himself and walked into the house. Anya watched him go until he was in the front hall, but she could hear no barking orders from him.

            Bessie hurried to clean the tea cups and left-over cakes from the table as the three stood to their feet, sensing that their afternoon tea had drawn to an end with the phone call. Anya was the first in the house and to appear at Slack's elbow just as he hung up the phone.

           He turned to look at her. "Lake and I are needed back at the station. Apparently, the young maid, Holly, committed suicide just a few minutes ago, and Ruby Hambledon was the one to find her."

          Anya gasped. "The poor thing! I'll come with you. I really must see her, Slack." Her tone was one he could not argue with, and so acquiesced, barking at Lake to get the car ready. Anya turned as the old woman hurried to the hall, Lake saying a hasty goodbye before he was out the front door and starting the car. "Aunt Jane, I must go—"

            "Yes, dear, I heard. Go and comfort the poor child. I'm sure she's a wreck. Take care of her now, Chief Inspector, and make sure she doesn't wander off again!" she called teasingly as Slack and his angel gathered their things and said rushed goodbyes to her. Anya rolled her eyes at the old woman, waggling a finger as she backed away through the front door that Slack was holding open for her. They sprang into action then, and Anya nearly flew into the back of the car, Slack shutting the door behind her before hastily occupying his own seat.

            He turned his head to look at Anya as she settled herself in. "Are you sure you can help her? I don't think something like this will ever leave a child's mind," he said uncertainly.

            Anya shook her head soberly, glancing to the window as Lake raced the car down the street, beeping for people to get out of the way. "I cannot make her forget, but I can help her to cope. It won't be easy, and it won't take one session for me to do this. I'll have to see her over a long period of time and let her gradually come to accept and understand what she saw. She doesn't know that it was Holly yet, does she?" She glanced back to Slack as he shook his head. "No, I didn't think so." She sighed. "I'll have to tell her, though whether it will be today or another time, I won't know until I see her reaction. She is just at the age that puberty can begin and I can only imagine the confusion that she is feeling now. She is an intelligent child, though, and she does have Cinnamon." She stared out the window again as Slack looked on, bewildered, then turned in his seat and away from further conversation.

            Anya led the small group into the station where Slack then took over and barked a question to a passing officer, asking where the girl was being kept. The man pointed to a back room and then trotted away before Slack could say anything else. Anya started for the door immediately, leaving the two men behind as she began her mission. She would be exhausted by the end of this session after giving the child so much energy.

            She knocked on the door and waited for a woman to tell her to come in. She opened the door slowly, hearing the quiet sobs in the corner as she did. The woman she locked eyes with was the same one she had taken over from the first time, the one who, she imagined, was madly in love with Slack and thought that Anya was trying to steal him from her. She would have laughed if the situation were not so serious. Instead, she nodded to the woman to let her know she was relieved, and the officer turned up her nose before stomping from the room.

            "I should have known he'd want his 'psychologist'," she hissed, bumping Anya's shoulder as she stole out the door, leaving the angel sighing in resignation. The poor woman didn't have a clue that Slack was not the least bit interested in her.

            Anya shook her head, the sobbing child stealing her attention for the moment. She must focus now and help poor little Ruby overcome the horrible scene she had just witnessed. "Ruby, dear?" she called softly, waiting for the child's permission to approach her.

            The girl didn't lift her head from her teddy, the poor stuffed animal soaked through with the child's tears. Anya moved forward, taking the still-warm chair the officer had just left. Her movements were soft and slow so as not to scare the child. Everything she did relayed peace and comfort as she began her slow, painstaking energy work on the child.

            "Ruby, it's Anya. Do you remember me?" she asked, her whole body shaking slightly with the force of her work. There was a pause in the sobs, a tiny hiccup, and Anya relaxed slightly as the girl slowly turned her head, her bright fawn eyes shining with tears in the glaring light above them. Why they had put the poor child in an interrogation room was beyond her. Ruby was frightened enough without having to be put into such a dreary, lifeless place.

           "Miss Anya?" The tiny voice choked and she swallowed back more tears.

           The angel smiled to the child, reassuring her that this was no trick. "I'm here, sweetling. I've come to help you."

           The girl got shakily to her feet and then ran to her, dropping her teddy and nearly knocking the angel from her chair with the force of her collision. Warm, comforting arms held her tightly, a silent promise to the shaking child. Her tears came back with a vengeance, and the force of her crying was enough to make Anya begin to tear up. The angel slid to the floor with the little girl curled into a tight ball on her lap, her little head buried into the woman's breast, her small hands clinging to the purple dress that was rapidly becoming drenched. She would sit here for as long as it took for the girl to stop crying, knowing that there could never be any true healing for her until she had first gotten all the tears and frustrations out instead of bottling them up for a detrimental explosion later.

            Ruby had been through so much that it simply broke the angel's heart to find her in this state. As shudders stole through the small body clutching her, she started rocking back and forth soothingly like a cradle, a lullaby from years back coming to the forefront of her mind. She let the words come to her mouth, singing softly as she rocked, remembering a time long ago when she was the young child lying cradled in her mother's arms as the same song was sung to her.

            Slowly, very slowly, the shudders subsided and the tears stopped, but the angel kept the child in her arms, taking up another tune and singing that as she continued to rock. A few minutes later, the girl heaved a sigh, a sound that Anya would expect to hear from someone as old as Aunt Jane, a person with many memories and past mistakes to reflect upon, not a ten-year-old who had not had the chance to begin living her life independently. A short time later, Anya listened to for the girl's steady breathing, and realized that she had cried herself to sleep.

            She shifted slowly, allowing her legs to be released from their cramped position as she fought to not disturb the child. She reached out with her mind then, finding Slack in his small office, and tapped against it gently. ~ _Slack?_ ~ He was attentive immediately.

            ~ _What is it?_ ~ he asked, looking up from his work.

            ~ _She's sleeping now. The poor thing cried until she exhausted herself. Is there a couch or anything I can put her on so she can stay comfortable?_ ~

            ~ _There's a small one in the waiting room, but that'll be too crowded._ ~

            ~ _Can we move it somewhere else? Will it fit anywhere?_ ~ He sighed.

            ~ _I suppose it would fit in my office. I'll tell you when it's been done._ ~ He severed the connection, and she smiled softly. She sang the first lullaby again while she waited, her rocking softer now as Ruby stayed in her deep, refreshing sleep. She would feel much better once she woke as Anya continued to blanket her with warm energy.

            Several minutes passed before Slack came into the room to tell her that the couch had been moved. He helped her get to her feet, one of her legs having fallen asleep, and helped arrange the child in her arms for her to be carried. When Ruby shifted, they both stopped with bated breath until she settled again, their sighs of relief mingling. Anya chuckled softly as Slack looked on, his cheeks coloring before he cleared his throat and held the door open for her. She walked out into the bustling front hall of the station, and hurried to Slack's office to keep the girl from waking.

            Slack followed and entered just as Anya was laying her down softly on the couch. As she bent to loosen the girl's fingers from her shirt, Ruby's face twisted as if she would start crying again, and she clung even harder to Anya's dress, pulling her down to her. Slack moved to help, but Anya held up a hand to stop him. She shifted the girl and lay down on the couch by her, kicking off her shoes as she got comfortable. Ruby snuggled against her once more as Anya's arms snaked back around her body, the small head cradled in the crook of her elbow. She laughed softly, smoothing back soft brunette locks from the serene face.

           "I'm sorry, Slack, but it seems we may both have to impose upon you," she said, smiling up at the chief inspector.

           He cleared his throat uncomfortably and then sat back down at his desk to resume his paperwork. "That's fines. Just don't start snoring." He glanced up and completely surprised her with the teasing twinkle in his eye.

           She smiled back. "I'll be sure to snore as quietly as a mouse," she assured, making the corners of his mouth curl up briefly. She hunkered down into the couch, her head leaning on the padded arm as she closed her eyes, allowing herself to fall off to sleep as well, resting her body after all the energy work.

           

            He didn't know how long he had been at it, but the opening of his office door made him jump. He turned burning eyes on poor Lake as he hurried in with news, his mouth open to speak. He stopped short as Slack barked at him in a whispered shout, and it was then he saw the two asleep on the couch.

            "Sir," Lake lowered his voice dutifully, "the chief constable is here and wants to speak with you," he reported in a whisper. Slack nodded and rose silently from his chair, stalking on cat's feet to the door. "Use my office, sir. I'll stay here in case any calls come through," Lake said. Slack nodded and hurried off, closing the door quietly behind him as he rushed to see the chief constable.

            While Lake was playing with one of the chief inspector's pens, he suddenly heard Anya suck in a deep breath of air. His head whipped around to see her body jerk once, her face screwed up in what he thought was pain. He hurtled out of the chair toward her, his hand outstretched to wake her when her eyes snapped open and found his immediately, chilling him with their intensity.

            She sat up, nearly dislodging the child beside her, and looked wildly around the room. "Where is Slack?" she gasped, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

            "He's talking with the chief constable. Miss Anya, are you all right?" She shook her head, shaking a few strands of hair from her face. "He's nervous about something, Lake. I can feel it."

             Her eyes darted to the door as she sensed Slack suddenly coming toward the office and heard his voice beyond attempting to stop someone from entering, though without much success. The door flew open, and a hefty gray-haired man shouldered his way in, his piggy eyes falling upon Anya where she sat staring at him curiously, and the small child who was slowly coming awake at all the commotion. Ruby rubbed her eyes sleepily and sat up, gasping as Anya's arms suddenly yanked her into her lap as the angel glared at the older man suspiciously. Slack entered after him and stood between the man and the couch.

            "Ruby!" the unknown man snapped, making the girl's eyes go wide. "Come here, child. Woman, let go of my niece!" he bellowed, moving to step around Slack.

            The chief inspector matched his step. "Sir, I realize she is your niece, but she needs rest right now after—!"

            "I don't care what you think she needs! With both my sister and her worthless husband dead, she is now my responsibility as her sole relation and godfather!" The portly man managed to knock Slack to the floor, but Lake was there as a second defense as Anya stood, hiding Ruby behind her back.

            "Ruby, is this man your uncle?" Anya asked, glancing down at the little girl. 

            Ruby looked up and nodded slowly. "Yes, that's Uncle Harry. Mummy always said that she never wanted me with him. He was never allowed to visit the house. Mummy said he was a drunkard."

            "That's a lie!" the man roared, shouldering his way past Lake, shoving the younger man back into the wall.

            The angel heard the sergeant's head crack against the wall as she instinctively prepared to defend the girl, glaring at this new-found threat. As the two officers struggled back to their feet, the raging uncle barreled toward Anya. He raised a hand to backhand her but she slapped it away, striking him hard in the jaw whilst side-stepping. Ruby moved with her as Anya backed her toward Slack's desk, pulling the angry man away from Lake and Slack as they readied for their second attempt. Uncle Harry was mad now at being struck, and by a woman. He came at her, surprisingly agile for so big a man, and feinted to the left, catching her around the middle with his fist and folding her over. He bloodied her lip with his other fist, making her head ring as he shoved her back against the wall, nearly pinning Ruby behind her. 

            "Run, Ruby!" she yelled as she swiped at the man's face with her nails, making him step back uncertainly.

            The child did not have to be told twice, and darted around the two adults toward the door. Lake ushering her out and followed. The man turned to give chase until Anya grabbed his shirt and turned him toward her, backhanding him angrily across the face and then elbowing him in the collarbone. He cried out in pain and collapsed to his knees. She jumped over him to hurry toward Slack but the man grabbed her around the legs, tripping her. She twisted in midair, shielding her head with her hands as she fell. Her hip did not fare so well and she gasped loudly as pain lanced up her body. The man was nearly on top of her before she knew it, tearing at her dress as he made his way to her face in order to bash it in. She managed to find his gut with her heel, making him grunt and fold in half, allowing her to wriggle out from under him. She felt hands grabbing her under the arms, and Slack dragged her to her feet as at least a dozen officers rushed into the small office to restrain the man cursing and shrieking at the woman who had beat him so.

            Slack lifted her bodily into his arms and deposited her on the couch, making her hip smart in pain. He turned to call for a doctor, shouting to be heard over the raving of Uncle Harry who was now being ushered into an interrogation room that would hold him until the police were ready to deal with him. Anya leaned over and held her head in her hands, the ringing louder than before as the station turned into a madhouse, giving rise to a massive migraine that consumed her with pain. She started shuddering, blood dripping from her lips onto her new dress as Slack tried to get her to lift her head to get a good look at her.

            "It hurts. Please stop," she whispered, trying her best to turn away from him. He yelled louder for a doctor, increasingly worried for her health as she began rocking back and forth. She covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to shut out all light and noise from her pounding head. A new set of hands suddenly found her and forced her head up. Large fingers forced her eyes open and a tiny light flashed in them, making her cry out and wrench her face away from this new torture.

            "Miss Anya." A voice boomed in her head, making her shudder. The voices softened. "Miss Anya, look at me. I know your head hurts, but I need you to look at me. Chief Inspector, shut that door and turn the lights off, please! This girl needs the room as dark as you can make it. Yes, Sergeant, close those curtains too, please."

            As the room darkened and the sound outside lessened, Anya was able to let go of her ears and allow her eyes to slowly open. Her head was pounding and her stomach and side pulsed with pain. She was afraid she might be sick.

            "Good girl. Look at me, that's right," the voice continued. Her eyes found the local doctor's, Dr. Waters, and he smiled at her encouragingly.

            "Is she going to be all right?" That was Slack's voice, coming from the side of the room by the door. She could see his outline faintly, her eyes adjusting to the now-dark room.

            "Slack?" she called quietly. His shadow moved and came closer as he sat gently on the couch beside her.

            "I'm right here, Anya," he said. She turned her head slightly, wincing as she felt a cloth touch her mouth.

            "Are you hurt?" she managed to ask as she held the warm, wet cloth to her lips at the insistence of Dr. Waters.

            Slack grunted beside her. "I'm fine, Anya. Worry about yourself right now. You took quite a beating," he mused. 

            She found herself chuckling. "I'll be all right. I'm sorry I frightened you. How's Ruby?" She turned her head to look at him and found him shaking his head, bemused.

            "She's fine, thanks to you. Her uncle will be going to prison for assault, so he won't be seeing her anytime soon. One of the maids came from Mansfield, and I sent her home."

            Anya nodded. "I will still have to do more sessions with her, but I think she'll be all right in the end," she mused, wiping her lips gently with the cloth.

            "Can you stand, Miss Anya?" the doctor asked, seeing that her migraine was beginning to recede as her voice steadied and she became herself again. She nodded and began to rise slowly to her feet, Slack taking her elbows gently as he rose with her, steadying her as she winced in pain when she put weight on her aching hip.  She would have fallen onto the couch as her head started spinning had Slack not tightened his grip, allowing her to lean on him as she waited for the dizziness to pass. Dr. Waters waited until she had recovered to ask about any other aches and pains.

            "I landed on my hip and got a fist to the stomach, but I think those are just bruises that will pass with time," she said, gradually shifting weight off Slack. The doctor clicked his tongue and moved to begin inspecting her when she held up a hand. "I'll be all right now, doctor," she said, staying him with a hand.

            "Anya—"

            "Slack, I'm fine," she said tartly, her tone harder than she meant for it to be. She glanced sheepishly at him and found him looking away in frustration. She reached up and tapped his cheek lightly with a finger, making his head whip around in surprise. "I'm sorry." She smiled apologetically.

             He sighed and steered her gently in the direction of the door. "Come on. Miss Marple is going to have my head once she finds out what happened to you," he said, walking beside her as they made their way to the station door and the police car beyond. Footsteps hurrying up to them revealed Lake, looking worriedly at Anya.  

            "Lake, were you hurt at all?" she asked.

            He smiled and shook his head. "Not at all. You were rather amazing fighting that man, Miss Anya," he said. "I've never seen anything like that before, let alone a woman fighting that way!" Her stern look drew a blush to his cheeks. "Not that women can't fight, of course. But you can imagine that something like this doesn't happen often here," he laughed as he followed them out the door.

            "Lake, if you're going to continue babbling, at least get in the car and drive Anya back home!" Slack snapped, making Lake abruptly stop talking and slink to the driver's side door like a whipped dog. Anya giggled at the two of them as Slack opened the back door of the car, handing her in before taking his place beside the sergeant.

            The drive home was filled with Lake relating to Anya the specifics of the fight between her and Uncle Harry. Her own memory was a bit fuzzy on the subject, and so Lake gladly gave her a step-by-step guide as to what exactly happened, adding his own embellishments to which Slack grunted at disapprovingly, but he did not interrupt. She asked how badly off the man was, and Lake snorted in amusement.

            "It took four of us to haul him off to the interrogation room for holding until we could see if you were all right. He was huffing like a wounded bull the whole time, but he was no worse for wear. You had taken the brunt of the beating. I'm afraid you didn't hurt him too badly, but then I don't know who really could in his condition!" Lake laughed.

            "I could only manage to hurt him enough to let me go. I didn't want to imagine what he could have done had I allowed him anywhere near my face."

            Lake's attitude sobered immediately. "I hadn't thought of that. He could very easily have killed you!" he acknowledged.

            "Yes, he could have. Which is why you should have taken the girl and run and left him to us," Slack said grumpily, folding his arms over his chest.

            Smiling, Anya leaned forward and put a hand over his, surprising him. ~ _If I had done that, I wouldn't have had the chance to let you care for me_ ,~ she whispered into his mind. His face turned so red that she was suddenly afraid he would burst a blood vessel.

            Lake glanced over and his expression darkened. "You don't look so good, sir," he said worriedly.

            Slack cleared his throat and removed his hand from Anya's, shifting away from her. "I'm absolutely fine!" he barked, peering intensely out the window as if attempting to forget that the young angel was still in the back seat.

            She laughed silently, covering her mouth with a hand as she sat back, holding her tummy as it suddenly hurt from her silent giggles. Oh dear, what a tease he had made of her! She had never acted this way in her life!

            All too soon, they arrived at Miss Marple's place, met by Bessie at the door. The maid gasped and called shrilly for the old woman as she saw Anya being helped slowly from the car by the two officers.

            Miss Marple was there just as the three of them reached the front door. "My dear, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" she asked briskly, leading the two men and the angel into the sitting room. Slack and Lake handed Anya down gently into her chair and she thanked them, her hip making her wince slightly in pain.

            "She'll have to tell you, ma'am," Lake said, turning to the old woman. "But she was a real savior today! You'll be proud of her once you hear the story," he assured, making the woman cock an inquiring eyebrow.

            "Can you not stay?" Anya asked suddenly, her eyes finding Slack's. He cleared his throat and reached up to fix his tie nervously, as if it had come out of place during the drive.

            "We would, but I'm afraid I now have yet another pile of paperwork on my desk following this incident," he said grudgingly.

            Anya sighed. "I suppose you will," she said reluctantly.

            "Miss Marple." The old woman looked at the chief inspector after tut-tutting Anya for her face. "I wonder if we might stop by later to see how Anya is doing?"

            She grinned suddenly. "Of course you may. I'm sure Anya will like that very much, won't you, dear?" Anya was already smiling at Slack, making his cheeks color again.

            "I would like that. Thank you." She inclined her head toward him, attempting not to appear too eager at the prospect of his company in front of the ever-watchful old woman.

            Miss Marple grinned knowingly without Anya's knowledge, the smile disappearing before anyone looked back to her. "Thank you so much for bringing her back, Chief Inspector. We shall see you tonight. I'm afraid I must hear this story, and you still have work to do," she insisted, ushering the two men out.

            "Of course, ma'am." Slack tipped his hat to the old woman before saying his goodbyes. Anya smiled after him, and he and Lake made their way to the door. Once they had gone, the old woman was back in the sitting room, summoning Bessie for tea before she set on Anya like a wildcat.

            "Now, dear, you must tell me everything this instant, and leave nothing out! You shall have no rest until you do so!" Anya smiled.

            "Yes, Aunt Jane."


	6. Chapter 6

           The weekend seemed to simply vanish into thin air. On Saturday, the day after Anya's brawl with Uncle Harry, she had completely healed herself in time to attend the promised tea date she had set with the family at Fox Hall. Aunt Jane accompanied her to make the acquaintance of the siblings.

            Fannie was not at the Hall when they arrived, but Ron and his two sisters, Anna and Adele, received them graciously and demanded to know the happenings of the week, gaping at Anya's tales of what had happened in so short a time. When she got to the attack of Judith and the brawl with Uncle Harry, she made it seem as if all her injuries were in areas other than her face as she concealed the fact of her quick healing. Aunt Jane seemed to approve of this tactic and made sure her story corroborated with the angel's.     

            They stayed twice as long as planned, and Aunt Jane was the one to finally excuse them, inviting the siblings to her house for tea later on in the week. Ron had told them he would be out of town tending to business, but Anna and Adele were all too happy to accept their invitation, setting a time for the following Friday.

            Sunday was filled with Anya first attending mass with Aunt Jane, and then calling on Ruby Hambeldon at Mansfield to inquire as to her health following the scene at the station. She spent a good portion of the day in a session with the little girl, assessing her for any sign that she would be permanently damaged by the discovery of her favorite maid after she had hung herself just days before. Ruby seemed to have the resilience of steel, as she had bounced back to her original self after her crying spell at the station. The most surprising fact in the case was that she had stopped carrying around Cinnamon. The teddy now sat on her bed and was a favorite cuddling partner at night, but he was not seen in any other part of the house. It spoke volumes about the girl's outstanding growth.

            Anya left her session feeling relieved and pleased with the child. Ruby was a rare girl, one that would make some lucky man very happy, one day. Her uncle had been banned from seeing the girl and even going to the house, as it was found in her mother's will that Uncle Harry was to have a small portion of the family's wealth but was not to be the caregiver of little Ruby. Slack had instructed another relative to be found, and a distant cousin was sent for, agreeing to come and live with Ruby at Mansfield as her guardian. Anya was sure that this cousin would be a wonderful guardian for the girl, but she promised herself that she would check in once the cousin had settled down. Then she would decide for herself.

            Now, as Anya glanced in the Monday newspaper before moving another step in the bakery line to buy some of Aunt Jane's favorite pastries for breakfast, she realized that she hadn't seen Slack all weekend. She rather missed his brash voice yelling at Sergeant Lake all the time. She smiled fondly as she thought back to last week. Today marked the seventh day she had been in this village, and so much had happened, she could barely wrap her mind around it! She was closer than ever before to Slack, though that wasn't saying too much, as he still did not quite believe she was an angel. His feelings had changed toward her, however, and she decided that that was a small win, in any case.

            She paid for the pastries and left the shop quickly, hurrying back to Aunt Jane for delivery. Once Bessie warmed them, the whole house would smell of strawberries and blackberries, something Anya was looking forward to. She hurried around the bend in the road, waving to the shopkeeper who kept the small place next to Aunt Jane's house, and trotted up the short path to the front door. Bessie was not there to help her with her coat as she entered, and so she juggled the basket of pastries as she shouldered her way out of the now-lighter coat. Her clothing was slowly morphing with the warming weather.

            As she was hanging up the coat in the closet, a sudden pounding on the floor signaled someone coming toward her from the sitting room. She turned with the pastries, expecting to see Bessie finally coming to meet her, but an older man with graying hair was there before her instead of the maid, looking just as surprised to see her as she was him.

            "Who are you?" she demanded, her eyes glancing around suspiciously, suspecting the man of perhaps burglarizing the house while she had been gone.

            The man suddenly smiled, and she tensed even further. What did he find so humorous? "You must be Anya," he said, extending a hand. "Aunt Jane did tell me that you were coming back soon."

            Anya's eyebrow arched as she noticed the informal title he used with the old woman. A light bulb suddenly went off in her head, and her hand flew to her chest as she laughed. "You must be Inspector Craddock!" She took his hand as he nodded approval. "Forgive me, I had completely forgotten your aunt had told me you were coming! I feel like such a fool," she said, coloring slightly.

            The man was extremely handsome, the graying hair only adding to the appeal of him, and she felt just a bit flustered. He wore the same type of suit Slack did, but somehow it appeared to flatter him all around. He smiled, dazzling her briefly.

            "Aunt Jane did say you have had a very eventful week. She told me about some of the cases you've been on with Chief Inspector Slack, and of some of the pitfalls of working with angry people," he joked, winking at her amiably.

            She giggled, suddenly embarrassed in front of him. "You must think me a barbaric sort of woman from those stories," she laughed.

            He grinned. "Barbaric, no. What I now wonder is why anyone would attack someone so beautiful and attempt to ruin her face." Anya's cheeks were burning now. This flattery had a much greater effect on her than did that of the horrible man who had pinned her to the wall in Willow Hall.

            "You are too kind," she said, smiling shyly. Bessie suddenly came bustling into the front hall, apologizing profusely for keeping Anya waiting. "It's all right, Bessie. Here, I've brought the pastries," she said, handing over the basket to the maid. "Is Aunt Jane down yet?" she asked before the maid could bustle off.

            "I believe I heard her moving earlier, ma'am. She should be down soon."

            "Thank you, Bessie. You are joining us for breakfast, aren't you, Inspector?" she asked sweetly, moving to the sitting room while they waited for the old woman to come down.

            "Of course," he said with a smile, moving with her into the other room. He took Aunt Jane's seat while she sat in her favorite chair, relaxing against the comfy back.

            "Your aunt told me a little about you, but I'm sure you could tell me more," Anya began, turning the conversation first toward him. She would have to think on how to explain her childhood to someone without mentioning the fact that she had been raised in another plane of existence.

            Craddock leaned back in his chair and studied her briefly before he began, telling her about some of his childhood and then education after his decision to become an inspector. He was the only one in the family to go into that profession, surprising everyone. "Being in the police force was not my boyhood dream. The first thing I thought of being was a lion tamer." Anya laughed heartily, trying to picture this man as a boy taming a lion with whip and chair.

            As if summoned by the laughter, Aunt Jane suddenly appeared in the doorway to the sitting room, smiling at them. "I see you two have met. How do you like my new friend, Durmot?" she asked.

            He smiled, glancing at the angel. "I'm wondering how long you've kept her from me, aunt," he returned with a smirk. Anya wondered if she would ever stop blushing when they were both summoned to breakfast. She would feel more at ease sitting by Aunt Jane while speaking with Inspector Craddock, she reasoned. Anya closed her eyes and let the smells of the berries wash over her, marveling at the freshness it brought to the house.

            "Ah, Anya, dear, I've invited the chief inspector over for tea this afternoon," Aunt Jane said as the three settled down to tea and hot pastries. 

            "Oh?" Anya perked up at the mention of Slack.

            Aunt Jane smiled and nodded. "He assured me yesterday that he would come if he is able, though he won't know for sure if he'll be involved in a case or not."

            Anya nodded. "Of course." She turned back to the blackberry pastry she had snagged from the serving plate and cut into it, eager to enjoy the sweet filling. She moaned lightly with pleasure as soon as she took a bite. "These are some of the best pastries I have ever tasted, Aunt Jane," she said, and heard the old woman laugh.

            "Anya, you look like a child who's just taken her first bite of chocolate. Are they that good? Last spring, there was something off about them, and the berries were a bit tart for my taste," Marple said as she cut into her own pastry. The three set to work on their breakfast, not speaking much as the eating ritual began and each savored his or her own food. The tea Bessie had brewed was the perfect beverage to wash such a scrumptious thing down, too. Anya was almost sorry that she had eaten so quickly.

            Once breakfast had been cleared away, everyone broke to take care of their own business. Aunt Jane walked outside to tend to her garden and to pluck away the weeds that were now beginning their daily battle with her other plants.

            Anya turned to the inspector. "I know Aunt Jane told me you were here for a holiday, but would you care to take a stroll with me around the village? The day couldn't be nicer," she said.

            He nodded eagerly. "Of course. I haven't seen this village in over a year. I should like to see the changes."

            She laughed. "Well, you'll have to let me in on the secret, for I have only been in this village for a week!"

            She chose her green suit for the walk, changing from the plain dress she had dashed out in earlier for the baker's delightful pastries. As she came down the stairs into the front hall, she saw Inspector Craddock's eyes widen in amazement. "Is it too much?" she asked, looking down at herself.

            "Oh, no." He shook his head, smiling. "It suits you well. I was marveling at how you managed to find such a perfect color for yourself." Her face would look like a tomato if he didn't cease with the flattery!

            "Shall we?" she asked, moving to the front door.

            "Of course." He followed her out the door and into the sunshine and bustling street. Everyone was out today, as it was warm enough for all sorts of activities. She was constantly waving and shouting a good morning to all the neighbors as they tended to their lawns or went for a walk, themselves. Suddenly, the inspector was asking her about her life, and she related some things from her childhood without revealing herself to him.

            "And what is your profession? Are you a model?" he asked.

            "I am a psychologist, actually," she said, surprising him.

            "Really? How interesting. I would have never guessed that, had you made me. What made you want that profession?"

            She shrugged. "The human mind has always fascinated me. People have so many unique behaviors, and it's rather fun for me to study them and see what I can find."

            "Hmm." He looked off toward a stand of trees, thinking. "And how did you come to meet Aunt Jane?"

            "Well, I came here from London to study the mixture of psychiatry with the art of interrogation. I met your aunt and Chief Inspector Slack along the way. It took me a little while to be accepted in this area, though. I don't think my interference was looked upon very highly. Perhaps it still isn't," she mused.

            He smiled kindly. "I'm sure I won't argue with your being here," he said.

            She smiled back at him. "You're too kind."

            They continued in silence then, each lost in thought. Anya decided that she liked Inspector Craddock. He was easy to get along with, and she felt comfortable being around him. He was a friendly and amiable man. He reminded her of Sergeant Lake in a way, and that thought led to Slack. She wondered if he would be able to make it to tea this afternoon. She would be very glad to see him again.

            They came upon a shallow stream with a bridge going across and stopped by the side to rest a little. Anya leaned against the wooden rail and peered over the side, watching small fish darting to and fro in the water.

            She turned to look at Craddock. "Inspector—" she began when he held up a hand.

            "Call me Durmot," he said, shocking another small blush to her face.

            "Very well, Durmot. Why did you decide to take a holiday out here? Aunt Jane says you live nearly twenty miles from St. Mary Mead. What made you wish to come to this village?" she asked curiously.

            He shrugged. "I've always liked how quiet this village is. I needed to get away from my town for a bit, from the noise and everything else. I wanted to forget things for a little while."

            "Your last case was tough for you," she said softly.

            He gave her a tiny smirk. "It was, yes. There was a child involved, a little girl. She was abused and murdered by her uncle. It was very tough, indeed."

            "I'm sorry to hear that. He was put away, right?" she asked.

            "He killed himself before we could bring him in. He was a dangerous man, and so we were instructed to be armed when we went to arrest him, something that does not happen very often these days. Just as we all got out of our cars, he opened fire from the house, killing two officers and wounding another. The rest of us got down and shot back. He returned fire for a little while and then stopped. We waited for a few minutes until we heard one shot, and then there was silence. When we finally went in, we saw what the final shot had been for. The disgusting thing was that he had a smile on his face, as if it were all a big joke to him." He ducked his head down between his shoulders and closed his eyes, as if trying to shut out the images that were circling his mind. "One of those dead men was my partner," he said, so softly that she barely caught the words.

            Anya felt great sorrow for the man and fully understood why he needed to get away. "Forgive me," she whispered, placing a gentle hand on one of his for comfort, and transferred warm, soothing energy into him. He lifted his head to give her a smile, and she was devastated to see his eyes shining with tears.

            He blinked them away quickly and straightened, his hand still beneath hers. "You're rather good at this, aren't you? I feel better already having told this to you. Perhaps I was destined to come here," he chuckled, wiping at his eyes with his left hand.

            "It's true that it is better to let emotions come out rather than bottle them up, but I should not have pried something like that from you after it had happened so recently," she admitted, feeling rather ashamed of herself.

            He smiled and slid his hand out from under hers to give it a pat. "No matter. I do feel better, that I am thankful for. It is good to let things out before they become too much, isn't it? Well, it's about noon, now. Shall we head back? Aunt Jane will probably be wondering where we are." He held out his arm and she took it happily as they both headed back the way they came. The conversation on the way home was much more pleasant.

            Their slow saunter doubled the time it took to reach Aunt Jane's house. As they rounded the bend in the road, Anya caught sight of a taxi easing to a stop in front of the house, and watched as Slack got out and paid the driver. He turned for the door when she called his name, her stride lengthening in excitement upon seeing him. He turned, his expression darkening as he caught sight of her hanging off the inspector's arm. Durmot let her go and she hurried ahead, reaching Slack well before him.

            "What have you been doing, Slack? I haven't heard from you all weekend!" she quipped mockingly.

            He looked down at her. "I've been working, Anya. And I have called, but you were always off having tea with someone or tending to Ruby Hambledon," he chided.

            She sighed and waved him off. "Fine, fine, I deserve that. You'll be pleased to know that Ruby is doing wonderfully, however, I will go back there to see this cousin of hers. If she is vile, I shall have to insist on another relation being found." She waggled her finger at him, and he rolled his eyes.

            "Yes, ma'am," he said in a defeated tone, making her laugh.

            "Inspector Slack." Dermot had finally made his way to the two, and tipped his hat to the other man.

            Slack nodded stiffly, clearly not happy at finding him here. "Inspector Craddock," he said coolly, his demeanor changed completely.

            "Come now, Slack, can't you be friendlier?" Anya chided, grabbing his forearms and pointing him toward the door. "Come on, then," she laughed as he protested vehemently. She released him and trotted down the path to the door to open it, waiting for the two of them to hurry in. Slack gave a sideways glance at Craddock before he started down the path, taking his hat off as he came. Dermot followed silently with a small smile on his face.

            "Where have you been, Anya?" Aunt Jane sauntered into the front hall from the sitting room, catching sight of the three of them. "Ah, Chief Inspector, so glad you could make it." Slack nodded curtly in her direction, his eyes flicking from Anya to Craddock as he witnessed her taking his hat and hanging it for him.

            "Dermot and I went for a quick walk, Aunt Jane," Anya said, taking the old woman's elbow and turning her. "Come on, we'll all come in now," she said, walking away to sit Miss Marple back down. She missed the glare Slack aimed for the other inspector's back.  

            Anya took her favorite chair across from Aunt Jane, leaving the two inspectors to share the small couch to their side. Both crossed their legs and turned in Anya's direction. Miss Marple noticed the movement out of the corner of her eyes, and she smiled briefly. Anya wondered in passing what the old woman had planned. It was obvious she was up to something.

            Bessie entered the room with a tray, and tea and cakes were quickly passed between the four of them. Once everyone had settled, Marple took the attention of the younger three, steering the conversation where she wished it to go. She asked Slack what he had been doing over the weekend, and listened closely to the case he had just completed. As Slack talked, she watched Anya, noticing her attention fully on the inspector and not looking once at Dermot, much to her nephew's dismay.

            "It always amazes me how criminals can be so forgetful at times," Anya mused when Slack finished his tale.

            He grunted. "If he hadn't left those fingerprints, we would have been left with nothing to put him at the scene. Their stupidity is what makes our job easier."

            She smiled and shrugged. "I suppose. But if they're that stupid, why would they commit the crime in the first place?"

            "Because they believe they are smarter than they really are, dear," Aunt Jane filled in with a small smile.

            Anya sighed. "It's a shame there's such evil in the world," she mused.

            Aunt Jane leaned forward and patted her hand lightly. "If everyone had your temperament, the world would be peaceful, indeed. Unfortunately, these two would be out of work, and quite possibly bored with their lives," she chuckled.

            Dermot smiled. "It would be rather boring, Aunt Jane. But I'm sure we would find another profession. Right, sir?"

            Slack's head jerked up. "Yes, I suppose we would have to," he responded coolly, making Anya smile. She knew he didn't hate the other inspector: Slack would be Slack no matter who it was. He very much liked Lake, just not how happy the younger man could be. Their odd relationship never ceased to make her laugh, which always made Slack confused.

            Anya took the conversation then, turning toward Dermot to begin it. "Tell me about the case where you two first met. Aunt Jane told me a little, but I haven't heard the whole story." She settled back in her chair, relaxing herself as she readied for the interesting story. Dermot looked to Slack first before beginning, catching the other man's jerk in his direction to allow him the reins.

            "I was called over to work on the Marina Gregg case by the chief inspector, himself, and was completely warned about the problems that would arise were I not, erm, delicate enough with my investigation." His sideways glance at Slack caught the frown that had developed. "He also informed me of an old woman I should consult with, as well, though I told him afterward that I already knew her, and that she was my aunt! You can imagine the look on his face," he laughed, and Anya joined in. She could just imagine the surprise.

            The chief inspector sat back on the couch and crossed his arms, clearly not happy with how this conversation had begun. "Yes, I was surprised, but that made it all the easier for him to go and see Miss Marple for advice," he defended.

            Anya grinned. "Of course. And I know you solved the case, right, Aunt Jane? Was it difficult for you?" she asked, turning then to the old woman.

            Marple nodded to the young woman. "It was a bit of a problem for me, I must admit. I, like many others, believed the poison in Marina Gregg's drink had been meant for her and not for Mrs. Babcock. Well, that was until I began digging into Marina Gregg's past to see about her adopted children, and then it started to unravel itself before me. Once Marina had killed her secretary, Ella Zielinsky, then all the pieces fell together, and I informed Dermot of my suspicions. Of course, by the time we got there to catch the woman, she had already committed suicide."

            Anya was on the edge of her sear, intrigued by this case. "Where were you in this, Slack?" she asked, and noticed how flustered he had become.

            "I was rather in the background on that one, Anya. By the time I got on the case to get the chief constable off my back, Miss Marple here had already solved the whole thing."

            "Oh dear. Is that the only case you two worked on together?"

            Dermot nodded. "Yes, it was. It wasn't the first one I worked on with Aunt Jane, though." He smiled.

            "Ah, yes! The murders in Chipping Cleghorne! Oh, Anya, now this one will interest you," Aunt Jane said, smiling as she began relating the case to her. Slack listened just as closely, intrigued despite himself. Both Dermot and Aunt Jane explained the circumstances: The murder announced in the newspaper at Mrs. Blacklock's house, the gathering of the village people in her home to see if it was all a hoax, the single gunshot that had supposedly grazed Mrs. Blacklock's ear, and the dead man that was the shooter. The murder turned out to be a suicide, which confused Marple greatly, and prompted her to delve further into the affair. Then the terrible death that was thought to be an accident of Mrs. Blacklock's close friend, Bunny, happened. This was followed by the murder of another woman in the village who had worked out who the killer was just in time to have her life snuffed to keep her quiet.

            Dermot allowed Aunt Jane to explain her sudden discovery that Letitia Blacklock could not be who she claimed, and found out the real identity of her and the younger couple living with her while passing themselves off as siblings. Dermot explained the set up that was staged to catch the real killer, Mrs. Blacklock, using the woman's cook to say that she had seen Mrs. Blacklock through a keyhole shoot the young man and then return to the living room to cut her ear and make it seem as if a bullet had grazed her. Anya was entranced by the tale, so much so that when it was finished, she sat back and clapped heartily. Aunt Jane did a mock bow from her seat with a smile.

            "That was fabulous, Aunt Jane! It's astounding how the knowledge of this small village and its people allows you to know who is capable of what. I suppose even in such a village, you've seen everything, and since you have the memory of an elephant, you recognize the signs of a certain personality and know the capabilities of that individual. It is extremely useful having you around, Aunt Jane," Anya praised.

            The old woman blushed and waved the angel off. "Oh no, dear. I am quite flattered that you compare my mind with that of an elephant, though," she chuckled.

            "I believe that you do as well, Aunt Jane," Dermot put in, quick to side with the angel. Anya glanced at the chief inspector while Dermot and Aunt Jane conversed, and saw him looking sullenly down at his cup.

            She stood and moved toward him. "Slack?" she asked gently, making his head jerk up.

            "What is it?" he asked, striving to appear as if he were enjoying himself.

            "More tea?" she asked, reaching for his cup. He paused and then nodded shortly, handing her the cup and saucer. Their hands did not touch as she took it from him. She turned from him with a smile and leaned over the tray. ~ _Are you not enjoying yourself?_ ~ she inquired softly in his mind. ~ _I'm sorry I've been ignoring you. Is something on your mind?_ ~ She turned back once she finished and saw him staring at her with a strange look on his face. When she handed him the cup, the look vanished to be replaced by the sour one he always wore.

            ~ _I'm fine,_ ~ he replied shortly. Dermot suddenly turned to Anya and asked her a question. ~Dermot _needs your attention more than I do,_ ~ he snapped cruelly, not meeting her eyes. Her face fell for an instant, but she recovered herself before he could look back at her.

            "Is something wrong, Anya? Are you not well?" Dermot rose from the couch and took her elbow. She could already hear the protest in Slack's mind as he fought internally with this new development. She quickly smiled Dermot off, not wanting there to be a confrontation of any kind. She had to take control of the situation before it got out of hand.

            "Oh, I'm all right. I just remembered something but then realized it had been taken care of." She carefully avoided saying his name, afraid of provoking Slack anymore. She sat back in her seat, watching her friend closely as he avoided her eyes.

             "Anya, dear, tell us about your success with Ruby Hambledon," Aunt Jane said suddenly. Both pairs of eyes from the couch turned toward the young angel. Anya looked nervously between the two and caught the look of slight hostility Slack still retained. She sighed inwardly. What had she done to deserve this? She would be glad of the excuse, and so began to relate to Dermot all the happenings between her and the little girl, from the death of her parents to the finding of her favorite maid's body and the dangerous confrontation between Anya and the girl's uncle. Dermot listened intently as Anya described the scuffle, and she ended her speech on a high note by praising Slack for his saving her from the large man. The chief inspector was not amused by her obvious attempt at flattery.

            "I'm glad he did save you. The man would surely have killed you, Anya! What were you thinking when you took him on?" Dermot asked. She looked from him to Slack and finally found his eyes on her. He seemed curious to hear her answer, despite his anger.

            She gave him a sad smile and found her eyes staring at his feet instead of his face. "I was thinking of the girl, and of Slack. I had to protect everyone in that room before anyone else was seriously injured." Her eyes fastened back onto his face, but he was looking away from everyone now, his face a cold mask as he completely brushed off her answer.

            Dermot did not appear to notice the sudden coldness that had enveloped the man beside him. "Well, it was still reckless. But I'm glad that everyone is safe. I would have been disheartened to hear if things had gone wrong after I came all this way in the hopes of meeting you!" Her eyes widened and she glanced up quickly to Slack, her heart suddenly beating twice as fast in its rib cage. Oh, why did Dermot have to say such a thing? Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the look of cold fury on Slack's face. Suddenly, he stood, making her jump in fear, and turned deadpan eyes toward Aunt Jane, startling the old woman.

            "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I just realized that I have a pressing matter of business to attend to. We should do this again sometime. Good day, Miss Marple." He spoke as if devoid of all feeling, his eyes like cubes of ice. He dipped his head toward Miss Marple, and then turned to do the same to Dermot, completely ignoring Anya where she sat in stunned silence. He left the sitting room, and she heard him picking up the receiver to call for a car to come around for him.

            "Forgive me, Dermot. I'll just be a moment." Anya jumped to her feet, hurrying out of the room to where she heard Slack's sharp voice, closing the door behind her so that they could be alone. "Slack, please—"

            He silenced her with a quick glare and finished his conversation on the phone, dropping the receiver heavily onto its cradle. She winced, and then suddenly he was stalking by her toward the front door. She gathered her wits about her and turned, grabbing for his sleeve as he reached for his hat.

            "Don't touch me!" he roared, smacking her hand away. She recoiled as if burned, holding her stinging hand as she stared at him in horror. What had she done to put him in such a rage? She couldn't think of anything for the life of her, and desperately wanted—no, _needed_ — to make him see how sorry she was and how hard she was trying to make it up to him. While she stood stunned, he turned his smoldering glare from her and snatched his hat from its hook, shoving it onto his head before he stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. Anya choked back a sob and hugged herself, shaking her head. She couldn't understand it: Everything had been fine! What had changed his attitude? Was it Dermot? Something about her saying the inspector's first name had started Slack on his rampage. But why should that upset him?

            Her head came up as she heard a car's brakes squealing slightly as the taxi pulled up in front of the house. She couldn't leave things like this! She hurried forward and wrenched open the door, running out into the fading light as the sun began its setting ritual. "Slack!" she yelled, running up behind him as he made to open the car door. In a desperate act, she threw her arms around him from behind to keep him from leaving. He made no move to comfort her or tell her it was all right. He just stood there, a silent statue clothed in black, his face averted from her.

            "Let me go," he said wearily, the fight gone as his shoulders drooped.

            "No, Slack: Not until you tell me what's wrong. What have I done? Please, whatever it is, tell me what I must do to make it up to you! I don't want you to hate me, please. I'm begging you, tell me what I must do!"

            "Leave me alone. I don't want to see you ever again."

            His answer startled her so that she loosened her arms unconsciously, allowing him to escape. She watched through blurry eyes as he stepped from the circle of her arms into the taxi that would take him from her life forever. He never looked at her, and his mind was completely shut to hers. She heard his sharp, barking voice and watched his lips move, wishing that she had said something else, anything that would stop him from leaving. She stared helplessly as the taxi sped away with her Slack in the back seat. Hers? Should she have told him that she loved him? Would that have made him reconsider? Now she would never know because she had been too much of a coward!

            The tears welled up and poured over before she could stop them, and her hands came up to her face as she collapsed on the walkway, sobbing her heart out in public. She didn't know how long she was on her knees before the front door opened and footsteps came toward her hesitantly. Hands took her gently by the shoulders and she felt Aunt Jane settle beside her, rubbing her back as she cried herself out.

            When she had finally gathered the strength to stop, she looked to see tears running quietly down Aunt Jane's own face. "Oh, my dear. I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

            Anya scrunched her brows. "What do you mean, Aunt Jane?" she asked, her voice still choked with tears.

            The old woman wiped her eyes quickly and struggled to get back to her feet, Anya following her slowly. "Come inside, child, and I will tell you everything."

            Anya followed Aunt Jane into the house and the sitting room, taking up her favorite chair again. Dermot was nowhere to be seen which, considering the circumstances, Anya was rather glad of. She glanced at the spot Slack had been occupying just minutes before and felt fresh tears jump to her eyes as she remembered the cold way he had looked at her. She sniffled and wiped them away as Aunt Jane summoned Bessie to bring tea. Moments later, a fresh pot was brought, and Anya wondered if Aunt Jane had known to have it prepared before she had gathered her.

            As Anya sipped her tea to calm her nerves, tasting some sort of alcoholic addition that warmed her considerably, Aunt Jane began her story. She recounted the whole of her plan to bring Dermot to St. Mary Mead so his presence would elicit jealousy from Slack. "I was a fool, dear. You spoke earlier of how I have studied people over the years and know how they will act, but in this case, I was terribly wrong. I'm so sorry, Anya."

            The angel looked at her feet and wiped more tears from her face. "This wasn't your fault, Aunt Jane. Yes, if Dermot were not here, this might not have happened. But there's nothing saying that it couldn't happen any other time, as well. I think I am starting to see what has happened. He's been hurt before, hasn't he? He's loved before and been hurt." She put her tea cup down and hugged herself, wondering what woman could be cruel enough to harm Slack in such a way.

            "Yes, dear," Aunt Jane confirmed her beliefs. "I did some snooping a while back and found out that he had a fiancée years ago. He was madly in love with her, and did anything he could to make her happy. Just days before their wedding, the poor chief inspector discovered the woman sleeping with another man in his own house. Well, you can imagine his reaction. He was so in love with her that it was devastating, but he couldn't bring himself to leave her. In the end, she took care of that too, and ran off with the young man she had had an affair with, leaving the young inspector behind with a broken heart."

            Anya sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned back in the chair, fighting to keep from reducing herself to tears again. She must think of how she could make this right. "I don't understand how he could think that I would do such a thing with Dermot. At least, I assume that's what he's now thinking." She stared at Aunt Jane. "Does this mean that—" She stopped, too shocked to continue.

            But Aunt Jane had caught her thought. "Yes, dear: I would wager that he loves you very much. But being the sort of man he is, he doesn't know how to tell you or even show you. And then this happened." She sighed, the shame of her actions weighing heavier. Anya finished the last of her tea and, her confidence restored, stood to her feet to the surprise of Aunt Jane. The old woman was shocked to see the sudden determination in the young woman's still-red eyes.

            "I must go to him right now and tell him my feelings. I must fix this if he can't find the strength to," she said, turning to head for the front door.

            "No, Anya!" Aunt Jane scrambled to her feet.

            The angel stopped, turning in confusion. "Why not? Aunt Jane, you must let me go to him! He's hurting because of some wrong he thinks I have done him. I must set this right and ease his suffering!"

            Aunt Jane patted her shoulder. "I know you feel that way, but he will not accept you tonight. You must give him time to think about what he's done and perhaps he will realize how hasty he's been. If he loves you as much as I think he does, he will be back apologizing for his actions within the week." Anya sighed, her shoulders slumping. She started shaking slightly, and Marple saw more tears falling from her leaf-green eyes. "I'm sorry this happened, my dear. Come, you've had a demanding day. Go up to bed, and I'll send Bessie up with your supper. Would you like another drink, this time without the tea?" she asked, taking the woman's shaking shoulders and steering her toward the stairs and her bedroom.

            Anya shook her head. "No, Aunt Jane, thank you. You're sure I should wait?" she asked, turning her wet eyes to the old woman. Marple nodded curtly. Anya sighed weakly, allowing herself to be led up the stairs and to her room where she collapsed on the bed in utter exhaustion. She had never known that all these emotions could be in her at once, nor that they could be so tiring. Aunt Jane left her in peace then, and she got up and changed into a nightgown when she heard Bessie's footsteps coming up the stairs. She accepted the tray gratefully and sat staring at the food with disinterest until she forced herself to eat a little bit. She fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, Slack's sharp bark and his stinging slap to her hand playing over and over in her head. She rubbed at her hand and then turned over, allowing more tears to drip down her face as she cried herself to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

            Two months went by.

            Two long, grueling, heart-wrenching months.

            Slack had not been in contact. Anya had seen nothing of him since the day he stormed out on her, hurt by her attentions to another man. He must have thought her rather loose, someone who could be won over simply by receiving flattery. If Aunt Jane had not stopped her that night, she would have followed him home and stood outside of his door until he had to leave, begging for his forgiveness and trying her hardest to win him back.

            But she had not done that. She had stayed, content with the hope that he would come to his senses soon enough and come back to her of his own volition. Things would be different: She would be happy and in the arms of the man she loved, the man she had vowed would be protected by her at all costs. But nothing had happened. She was still waiting for him, two months later: Waiting for a sign that somehow his hard heart had softened just a little, allowing him to give her some form of solace from the grief that constantly ate away at her.

            Every morning, she sat at the window in the sitting room, staring out into the street to catch even a second's glimpse of his car, should he come by. When the afternoon came and nothing happened, she would take tea with Aunt Jane and stay by the window, allowing the old woman to briefly distract her from her silent vigil for only moments at a time. Once Aunt Jane ran out of things to say, the surveillance began again, and Anya was left by the window until darkness fell, taking no sustenance but tea and sandwiches, things that could be consumed whilst her eyes were focused on other things. At last, when everyone had gone to bed, she would retire to her room and curl up under her blankets, feeling the familiar tears well up on the insides of her lids, and would quietly sob herself to sleep.

           

            Finally, Marple had enough. The poor girl was withering away into nothing, and it did not seem like the cycle would ever be broken unless something drastic happened. If Slack could not be persuaded in any way to see or communicate with Anya, she was afraid that the young angel might simply die from her broken heart, if such a thing were possible for her.

            Miss Marple woke herself and dressed as usual, stretching her old bones as far as they would let her as her eyes found the sunshine spilling over the earth to bathe the land in color. It was a warm Monday morning, exactly two months after that dreadful day, and it was time for Marple to have a serious talk with the angel about her behavior. The girl was not to be blamed in any way for her reaction. Marple doubted she had had any experience with something like this before. But things could not go on this way.

            She must convince Anya to cease her negative behavior and work on bringing the angel back to her former self. It had been long enough. Perhaps Anya had to be the one to initiate conversation between the two again. Marple could certainly think of nothing else, and even though she might wish it, her involvement would not be seen in a welcoming light by the chief inspector. It was best for her to stay out of the limelight for the moment.

            Nodding to herself, the old woman shambled from her room and turned down the hall to confront Anya while she was still in bed. It was best to start early: This could be an all-day project she was undertaking. She had her hand on the doorknob and was raising the other to knock when she heard something peculiar. Could it be—? She stopped and leaned forward, placing her ear gently against the door as she listened to the movement inside. Yes, there was no doubt about it. The angel was already out of bed and moving around. Why, she had never gotten up this early before, especially not since her gloomy spell. What could have happened to bring about this sudden shift in mood?

            She knocked frantically. "Anya, what is it? Why are you up this early?" she asked, almost frightened to hear the answer.

            Footsteps hurried to the door, and it was wrenched open by a frazzled-looking angel. She was only half-dressed, pulling on the top to her green suit as she held the door open. Her eyes were wild with worry, her hands shaking as they did up the buttons to her top.

            "Anya, dear, what—?"

            "It's Slack, Aunt Jane. I must go to him at once! I can wait no longer. He needs me!" she gasped, frantically doing the last button up.

            Marple was taken aback at her wild behavior. "How do you know he needs you, dear? What's happened? Has he contacted you? Oh, I must be getting old if I can't hear the telephone anymore."

            Anya was shaking her head hard. "No, Aunt Jane. He's sick, I can sense it. He had a terrible fever this morning and, of course, is not staying in bed and resting. Instead, he's going to work! He must stay home: This illness he has is taxing his strength too quickly for him to cope. He needs someone, and I cannot sit here another moment wallowing away in despair. Please, Aunt Jane, I must go to him!" She was nearly in tears as she begged Aunt Jane to understand.

            The old woman nodded quickly, her hands reaching out to steady the angel. The girl was weak, herself. Surviving off tea and sandwiches now and again for two months had withered away any strength she had had. Oh, if only she had insisted on breaking this spell sooner!

            "You will take a car, dear. You are in no position to be flying in your state: You are too weak. I wish you had taken better care of yourself, Anya. Come now, let's get some breakfast in you, and then you'll be feeling better. You need to take care of yourself before you can hope to be of any help to the chief inspector, yes?" she said, taking the angel's elbows as she guided her out the door. Anya nodded weakly, helpless even in the frail woman's arms.

            Marple took her downstairs and had Bessie whip up a nice, filling breakfast to bring the angel back to even a fraction of her former self. Anya sat and ate slowly, allowing her stomach to adjust to the sudden influx of food. Marple ate with her, watching the girl with apprehension the whole while. Could she be over reacting with this sense of hers? No, Anya looked badly shaken. She was very worried about Slack, and so Marple had no doubt that whatever bug he had caught was serious, indeed. If he didn't take care of himself properly, it could even be deadly.

            Anya finished quicker than Marple anticipated and stood to take her leave when the old woman stopped her. "I'll call for the car, dear. It should be around in a moment."

            Anya shook her head. "I should be fine now, Aunt Jane. I can fly. It will be faster, anyway."

            Marple sighed. "I would feel better about it if you took the car. You can't afford to exhaust yourself when the chief inspector will need all your strength, yes? What if he collapses? Take the car, dear. You will have plenty of opportunities to stretch your wings once this horrible ordeal is over." The old woman simply beamed with confidence, infecting Anya with her optimism. She finally surrendered to the woman's will as Marple hurried to the phone in the front hall to call for the car.

            Marple entered the room in time to witness the defeated pose the angel portrayed, and wondered what had changed her mood so suddenly. "Anya?"

            She looked up and smiled disarmingly, the confidence returning to straighten her posture. "I'm all right, Aunt Jane. I let my thoughts wander, but I am focused now. Is the car coming?"

            "Yes, the car is coming. Is he all right, Anya?"

            The angel shook her head slowly. "The fever is harsh on his body, Aunt Jane. I'm surprised he is still on his feet. I must get to the station before something terrible happens."

            "You don't think that Sergeant Lake—?"

            Anya shook her head again fervently. "No, Lake won't be able to convince Slack to go home and rest. The man has the stubbornness of a mule, after all. It must be me that does this in whatever way I can. And, Aunt Jane, I have to stay with him until he is well again," she said.

            A beeping outside the front door made Marple jump into action, and she ushered Anya toward the hall, offering tidbits of advice along the way. She was swatting at Anya to hurry and get into the car, the door held open by the patient chauffeur. She waved at her, grinning hard. Anya waved back weakly, her eyes straying to the driver as he turned his head back to hear her destination.

 

            Anya was still wrestling with her doubts about this sudden meeting when the car pulled up outside of the police station and the driver opened the door for her, watching impatiently as she fought to gather herself. With all the strength she could muster, she extended a shaking leg and stepped out of the car, allowing the man to close the door behind her and resume his seat. He raced away as quickly as he had come, leaving her stranded at the one place she thought she would never dread coming to.

            She didn't know how long she stood staring at the station doors, imagining the enraged face of Slack appearing behind the doors as he came out to yell for her to go away. She was so lost in her imagination, petrified of the image her mind played over and over again, that a sudden honk made her jump, her heart launching into her throat as she tore her eyes away from the building and stared at an angry driver who was waving her out of the way so he could park his car in the space she was standing in.

            She hurried onto the sidewalk, relinquishing the space to the frustrated man. Her head ached with all the scenarios her mind called up, each one more frightening than the last, until finally she stopped all thoughts, clearing her mind of everything as she sought to gain control. She closed her eyes and her mind became a blank slate, a carpet of black appearing in front of her as she steadied her breathing and her heart beat, effectively calming herself before she was swept away on the wave of madness that threatened to ruin her.

            She opened her eyes after a moment, allowing herself to take in the sights and smells, the sounds and feel of everything around her. Slowly, she acclimated herself to everything again, taking time to come back to herself before her breakdown. She had to gain control, or else she would be of no use to Slack when he needed her most. She could not afford that, not when there was something she could do. She took a deep breath, feeling the shakes slowly cease, and looked again at the doors of the police station. Slack's angry face was thankfully absent. She started for the door and her stubborn charge inside.

            She stepped inside, positioning herself to the right of the entrance for anyone else coming in after her. Her eyes took in the happenings inside, from detectives delivering suspects for statements to secretaries busily click-clacking away on their typewriters. The station wasn't incredibly busy today, which she assumed was a good thing. If Slack were to cause a scene upon seeing her, it was best to do it in front of as small a crowd as possible.

            Her eyes found the worn, splintering mahogany door that led to Slack's office. Memories flashed through her mind of the day that she had fought and beaten the raging uncle of little Ruby Hambledon. She remembered the feel of hands pulling her to safety from beneath the giant and into a pair of strong arms to deposit her on the small couch. It wasn't until Lake had recapped the events that Anya had known those arms had belonged to Slack, and that he had been the one to save her. Those memories sparked a warmth that spread throughout her body, brightening her mood and her outlook on the events about to take place. Eventually, that door would open, and she would be staring into the eyes of the man who had caused her so much pain by keeping his distance from her: The man she loved.

            Desperately, she tried to remember all the highlights of their time together to keep her confidence growing. She remembered the first time they had met, when dear Aunt Jane had helped her find the police station, and the man she had sworn to protect. He hadn't listened to her story for five minutes before he threw her out, not believing a single word she said.

            She hadn't let things drop there, however. She had followed him to a crime scene and scared the life out of poor Lake in the process of forcing her help onto the chief inspector. Since that agreement, their time together had only increased, and so had the bond that had been forged when she gave her oath as a guardian angel. They had been through some trials where she was forced to take her vow into account and save him from others, such as the woman, Judith, when Anya had figured out that she was a murderer, and Uncle Harry, though Slack had come to her aid in the end.

            She thought back to their first pitfall, when Slack had cancelled the tea date with her and Aunt Jane so suddenly, and how she had childishly run off and then refused to take his help after he and poor Lake had given much of their time to search for her. She had matured a little after coming to terms with her faults that night, and thought longingly of the new date that had been set where she had given her apologies and Aunt Jane had, in turn, solved that torturing case.

            One particular memory of that day stuck out in Anya's mind as she stood alarmingly still within the station. She had been pouring everyone tea, and when she had gotten to Slack's, their fingers had brushed, bringing their eyes together for a time. That brief contact had sparked something deep within them both. Perhaps it was the first time they each considered the fact that one loved the other.

            A sudden movement startled her from her thoughts. Her eyes found the door to Slack's office opening, the man himself stepping out with Lake and speaking wearily as the sergeant jotted down notes on the small notebook he always kept on his person. Anya could do nothing but stare, her body frozen in place by this unexpected development. A part of her hadn't thought that he was really in there. Maybe she had been unconsciously hoping he wouldn't be in the station at all so that she could continue to avoid the inevitable confrontation. 

            He looked pale, the fever taxing his body exponentially. He shouldn't even be at work, but at home and in bed resting while his body battled whatever it was that was making him sick. He was not doing anyone a favor by pushing himself.

            Her mind vaguely took in the opening of the door behind her, a small gust of wind tossing strands of hair over her shoulder. Suddenly, Slack's eyes were turning toward her, caught by the movement of the door, and locked on her. His eyes widened, his mouth opening, and he gaped at her like a fish out of water. She must have looked just as silly staring back at him with a dumbfounded expression on her face.

            A body brushed past hers, knocking her shoulder and breaking the spell that held her. That moment was enough for her to gather her wits and turn a smoldering glare on the person who had so carelessly shoved her. The brunette woman paid her no mind as her face lit up in a smile, her hand lifting in a wave.

            "Johnny, I'm home!"

            Anya followed the woman's gaze and found the baffled eyes of Slack gawking back at the woman, completely forgetting Anya for this mystery person who suddenly had his undivided attention. The room went quiet as everyone's attention settled on the two staring at one another, lost in their own world. Anya watched as Slack swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down nervously.

            "Sarah?" he whispered, his voice carrying across the still room. Anya's breath caught in her throat. Could she be—? She stopped, staring once again between the two of them. The brunette laughed, the sound grating on Anya's nerves like the cackle of an old woman up to no good. She winced slightly and stared helplessly as the woman raced toward Slack. Lake backed up quickly, as if afraid of the laughing brunette. His eyes turned and found Anya, and his shoulders drooped at her dismay.

            The woman named Sarah jumped into Slack's arms, nearly knocking him over in his weakened state. Anya reached out unconsciously to steady him, tears jumping to her eyes as she slowly understood the events unfolding in front of her. This woman . . . She must be the one that Aunt Jane had told her of, the fiancée that had broken the poor chief inspector's heart just a few years before Anya had come along. Her body felt numb as she stood foolishly while this strange woman laughed and held onto the man that Anya loved. What should she do? Clearly, Slack was still unwell, as he could barely keep his feet beneath the added weight of this woman hanging all over him, completely clueless that the man was ill.

             Anya felt a slow anger begin burning deep in her chest. What could she do? She had come all this way to repair things with Slack and take him home to care for him. Her thoughts had not included this old flame of his, of course, and she could feel her jealousy burning within the pit of her stomach. The tears disappeared with her sudden flare of temper. How dare she make an appearance after what she had done to him? Anya's voice raged within her mind like a roaring tiger. How could this woman be so callous as to come back into Slack's life after having hurt him so badly and, from the looks of it, expect everything to be fine?  

            "Sarah, what are you doing here?" Slack was clearly uncomfortable with how his morning had begun, first seeing one woman he still held mixed feelings for and then another who had shattered his life two years ago.

            Anya watched in horror as he seemed to crumple to the floor in slow motion, his body fighting to keep itself upright. Sarah was calling his name, asking what was wrong. The fever burning through him was more than Anya could take as the heat he felt in himself radiated like small rivers of fire coursing through her veins simultaneously. Her body was sweaty and uncomfortable as she struggled to shut off her senses to keep herself on her own two feet. She had to help him before he became too sick for anyone to cure.

            "Lake!" Anya called desperately as she started toward Slack just when his knees hit the floor with a jolt. The sergeant was there immediately, gently pushing the other woman away as her questions turned to yells as she demanded to know what was wrong with her Johnny. Anya brushed the hysterical woman aside as she knelt and took Slack's shoulders gently in her hands as Lake looked on, eyes wide with worry. His head rolled to the side and came to rest on Anya as he mumbled something incoherent. She looked up to find the sergeant's eyes glued to her, waiting for an order.

            "He needs to be taken home and put to bed straight away, Lake. He needs lots of water and medicine to help calm his fever. If we can't bring it down soon, it could turn deadly," she warned sternly.

            He nodded fervently as he got back to his feet. "The car's out front. I'll drive you both to his place." Anya nodded, a small smile of thanks on her lips before she turned her attention back to the groaning man in her arms, his body shaking with chills as the fever seemed to both suck the heat from him and absorb as much as it could to fight whatever was attacking his immune system. The fever he had was hotter than anything Anya had ever known, and her medical knowledge was expansive, thanks to her mother. A fever was beneficial to the body whilst fighting off sickness, but an extremely high fever, if left alone without the proper fluids and treatment, could become life-threatening. She couldn't let that happen.

            "Come on, Slack, let's get you back home and to bed," she said soothingly as she took him under the arms and, with Lake's help, hauled him to his feet. She pulled one of his arms around her shoulders and looped her own around his waist to steady him. Lake followed her example to even the burden.

            Just as they started for the front door, Sarah seemed to gather her wits and stepped in front of the trio, hands on her hips. "Just where do you think you're going? I'll be the one to take him back to his house and care for him! And who are you, anyway? You certainly don't look like any constable I've ever seen before," she sniffed, moving to take Slack's arm from Anya.

            The angel stepped back and away from her almost casually as she tried to keep her tone civil for a reply. "I am not a constable, miss. I am a psychologist, and a friend of Slack's. We'll do fine to take him there ourselves. We'll let you know how he's doing once we have him settled," she said, keeping her tone officious, as if she were in charge.

            "You just want him for yourself, don't you? You stupid woman! He's my man, and I'll be the one to take care of him!"

            Sarah's hand came out of nowhere and slapped Anya hard across the face, whipping her head to the side and nearly knocking the angel off balance. Two hands grabbed Slack's arm from around the angel's shoulder and tugged it viciously away as the girl staggered back, head ringing from the impromptu slap.

            She watched, eyes watering as the haughty woman took her place beside Slack and, with a bewildered Lake looking on, promptly started for the door, nearly dragging the sergeant along behind her. He looked back quickly, as if afraid that if he cooperated he would feel Anya's wrath. She waved him on as her other hand massaged her cheek, the stinging gradually fading. It would not do for her to begin a fight here in the police station, even if her hand was itching to return the slap given her. Slack's health was too important. She could not waste valuable time easing her bruised ego while he suffered.

            She followed the trio slowly, her eyes piercing Sarah's back as the woman led the listless chief inspector and his unwilling sergeant from the station to the car. She stopped at the glass door and watched as the two maneuvered Slack into the back seat, Lake surprisingly more careful in his handling of Slack's limp body than his so-called ex-fiancée as she hustled in to sit beside him, waving off the affronted sergeant. Lake turned to look at Anya again with a silent plea in his eyes. Did he really have to leave Slack in the care of this woman? Anya nodded her consent slowly, giving the distraught man a small smile to reassure him that what he was doing was fine.

            She may not be the one to care for Slack now, but she would take care to keep herself in the loop with his treatment. She did not want this woman near Slack, and especially not caring for him while he was ill and helpless, but what choice did she have? She couldn't very well argue with the woman or fight her for him. After all, Slack was still angry with her since she had not had the chance to mend their relationship before his old flame had rushed back into his life. No, let the woman think that she had won for now. Sooner or later, Anya would prove her own worth to Slack and help him to realize his feelings for her. Anya was not a bully and did not revel in the pain of others, but she found herself hoping that this woman's incompetence could be shown to Slack in time for him to come to terms with how his life could be with Anya. Then they would see who came out on top. That would be ample pay back for the slap.

            Lake got in the car, reluctant to be driving this horrid woman to Slack's place and even more reluctant to leave the man in her care. The sudden shrieking for him to move it from the woman in the back made him jump and start the car rather violently. He pulled out from his spot and raced away from the police station and the beautiful young woman looking on from the front door.

            As soon as the car was lost from view, Anya turned and walked back through the station, finding the bathing room for women. She would shift in there and fly to Aunt Jane's place. She must tell the old woman what had happened and think of her next plan of action.

*   *   *

            Stars twinkled brightly on that moonless night. A stargazer would have been dazzled as a large shadow blotted out the pin points of light for a brief instant before moving on, heedless of anything as it raced through the sky toward its destination. To the untrained eye, it would have looked like a massive bird, soaring through the sky on the hunt for something specific. And very eager to move quickly toward whatever goal it had in mind.

            Anya flew as fast as she could to Slack's home. Aunt Jane had been kind enough to find out the chief inspector's address through her connection with the police. When Anya had come back and told her everything, Aunt Jane had been adamant about her going to Slack's place that night to make sure that he was receiving the proper care that he needed from his monster of an ex-fiancée.

            "She cannot be trusted, my dear. She is a gold-digger, interested only in the next man who has money. The only reason why she has come back is for money. For all we know, she could leave the poor chief inspector to die in his bed while she spends whatever funds he has saved up before moving on to her next target. Oh, my dear, you must be there to care for him. But since there is no way we can get her out of that house, you shall have to do it at night while she is sleeping."

            And so, Anya had set out as soon as the sun had set and the land was blanketed in darkness. She passed over darkened homes, and the occasional car driving beneath her was the only thing to send light through the night as she flew in the earth's perfect cover. She thought of her situation as she went, wondering if Aunt Jane was indeed right in thinking that Sarah was back only for money, and would leave as soon as she found a better offer than what Slack had to give.

            The familiar burning sensation spread throughout her chest as her anger deepened with her thoughts. She could not let this woman hurt Slack again! She had to be there for him when this woman decided to take her leave once more. She just hoped that he wouldn't fall back in love with her before she had a chance to leave again. Could he continue to love the woman who had so broken him once before? Certainly, it was not an impossibility. And that was precisely what frightened her.

            Suddenly, Anya was passing over the old red barn Aunt Jane had told her was by Slack's home. She eased up, lowering herself to the ground as the small house came into view, the windows dark. No sound came from within, reassuring the angel that both occupants were likely asleep. She made her way to the front door, stepping through it easily in her translucent form, and stood still in the adjacent hallway, listening for the faintest of movements. Soft snoring up the short stairwell immediately to her right alerted her to Sarah. She could not hear anything from Slack. She stepped forward cautiously, keeping her form to prevent her from knocking anything over in the darkness. She had to find a candle or something and then make her way to the kitchen. She doubted that Sarah had left Slack any access to water, and so would make sure he had at least one glass before she left that night.

            Earlier that day, she had bought and made a tincture out of ginger, cinnamon, and yarrow, the herbs her mother had told her of once that were natural fever reducers. If she could get Slack to drink that and then help him further by infusing her healing energy, she was sure she could break his fever within a day or so.

            She found the kitchen with relative ease, and set to taking down a large glass and filling it with water before finding a candle to begin her trek through the house. As she bustled in the kitchen, she stopped a couple of times to listen for the continued snores from upstairs, convinced at times that they had ceased.

            After successfully finding a sad, stubby little candle, along with a few matches, her eyes looked up to find the dusty, small window situated over the wide sink allowing the cook who used this kitchen to see into the back yard of the house. From what she could make out, it was a rather neat lawn. The housekeeper must tend it: Slack would never have enough time to do such a thing with his profession. Nor did he seem to be the gardening type.

            She lit the candle then, stealing from the kitchen. She started quickly for the stairs, her footsteps as light as possible as she struggled to keep hot wax from dripping onto her fingers and the water from spilling. She ascended the steps slowly, hearing only soft creaks from them. She gained the landing and held the candle out, illuminating the few rooms at the top of the stairs. The snores from Sarah came from the room directly in front of Anya, and so she walked by that one and opened the door next to it, peering through it to find another bedroom, the wide bed inside harboring the occupant she was looking for.

            At least Sarah was not sleeping in the same room as Slack, she was relieved to see. She hurried inside, closing the door gently behind her. Slack made little noise from the bed, but she could hear his teeth chattering as his body still fought the fever. She hurried to his side and set down the water and candle before bending to put a hand against his forehead. His face was drenched with sweat.

            She searched frantically around the room and found a wash basin on a short dresser, still full of water and with a damp wash cloth hanging over its side. She wet the cloth anew and wrung it out, moving back to place it on his forehead to bring him some relief. She found a rickety old chair in the far corner of the room and carried it to the side of the bed so she could sit in comfort and wipe him down. After that, she would wake him and give him the water and tincture before leaving him in peace.

            Softly, she wiped his face and neck down with the cloth, watching as his body shivered from the contact of the cold water with his burning skin. He groaned and stirred when she stopped and she saw his eyes open. He blinked once before turning to look at her, scrunching his eyes in the dimness of the candlelight as he tried to make her out.

            She smiled and took the cloth from him, placing it on the nightstand by his head for later use. "Hello. I'm sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances, but it was your decision to go to work when you knew you were sick," she reprimanded gently as she turned to take up the glass. "Can you sit up? Drink this, it'll help keep you hydrated. I have a tincture that will help with your fever, as well," she said. He still stared, not quite comprehending who she was.

            "Sarah? Is that you? I didn't think you'd come back to me. It's been so long . . . Why did you come back? Do you still love me, after all?"

            Her eyes stung with more tears. He sounded so weak and miserable, a man once madly in love with this woman and who had been indescribably hurt by her. He was so desperate to know the reason why she had come back. He needed to hear that she had come to fix things, to start anew, not because she was a gold-digger who only needed him because she was strapped for money.

            What should she do? Should she crush his hopes by telling him what the woman he loved really was? Or should she keep quiet and pretend that she was this Sarah of his and leave him in peace until he was better? She managed a smile and patted his arm gently, her heart aching at her decision.

            "It's all right, Johnny: I'm back now. I won't go anywhere ever again. Now, sit up for me and drink this water. I promise it'll help you get better. Come on, now," she cooed as she helped him sit up against the bedframe, piling pillows behind him to make him more comfortable. She reached back for the glass, and when she looked back at him again, he was smiling, a genuinely content smile. Her chest contracted and her breath hitched for a moment. Never had she seen such an expression of happiness on his face before. Not even when he had looked at her.

            He took the water without complaint and drank what he could to please her. Once he was finished, he handed the glass back with another smile. When she replaced it on the nightstand, she grabbed the wash cloth and turned back to wipe his face off again. He grabbed her wrists gently and pulled her forward, holding her against his chest with all the strength he could muster. She gasped at this sudden advancement, but her body betrayed her, and she relaxed into his arms. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't let this go any further than it was. It would hurt later, but for now, she couldn't care less.

            She felt her arms move on their own and wrap themselves around his hot body, holding him with a fierceness she could not contain. Oh, how she had longed to be in his arms like this! If only they could stay like this forever and he could suddenly forget about Sarah and his past with her. If only he did not think she was someone else.

            "I still love you, Sarah. Thank you for coming back. You don't know how much this means to me, having you here again. Please, don't ever go away. Stay with me forever and make me the happiest man on earth. Please tell me you'll stay."

            With tears now coursing down her face, she nodded into his chest, unable to speak in the tumult of emotions that were swirling through her. How could she be so cruel to him? How could she stay here and promise something that she wished would never happen?

            She gathered her wits quickly and pulled away, wiping her eyes of tears. She eased the confusion on his face with a quick smile. "Here, take this tincture and then I'll let you sleep. You need lots of rest. I'll leave this water by your bed and whenever you wake, you should drink some. I'll check on you again later, all right?" He nodded in acquiescence. She pulled the spoon and tincture bottle from her pocket and measured out the amount needed. He took it without complaint before maneuvering himself under the covers again obediently.

            She wiped his face down again, then folded the cloth and laid it gently across his forehead. He took hold of one of her hands before she could pull away. "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" he asked, his voice already betraying the fatigue that was gripping him.

            She smiled and patted his hand. "Yes, of course," she whispered.

            He gave her another radiant smile and lay back, closing his eyes, his hand still holding hers. Her tears began anew and she let them fall silently as she stared at his face, so serene now that his beloved sat beside him. Unfortunately, she was the wrong beloved. What had she done? Now, whenever she came to tend to him, she would have to pretend she was that horrid woman. Perhaps he would figure out the differences of his caretakers after a while, but for now, the fever had left his senses rather shoddy.

            She sighed in resignation, her tears finally coming to an end as his breathing steadied and he fell fast asleep. His hand loosened, and she pulled hers away with great reluctance. She would do her energy work quickly and then leave. She didn't think she could bear to be in the same room as him now that she had betrayed him. She would not abandon him, though. Even though she took up this charade, she would not give in to her grief and leave him to save herself pain. This was something she must do to keep the peace. Who knew what he would do if he realized it was Anya come to heal him in the night, the second woman who had caused him grief? No, she was better off with this mask until he was well again. 

            Silently, she set to work, infusing him with warm, soothing energy that would not make him uncomfortable. She hoped that with these continued treatments, his fever would decline quickly, and then they would see about what had caused such a reaction in him. As soon as she was done, she stood and replaced the chair in the corner, erasing the evidence that she had ever been there. She left the glass of water and the cloth on his forehead, and with one last, longing look at his peaceful face, spread her wings and took flight from the room.

*    *    *

            It took three more nights of Anya's continued attentions for his fever to finally come down to normal levels, and from there, to taper off and finally break, giving him relief from its incessant burning.

            Anya was there the night his fever finally died for good. She had given him his tincture and was settling him down for sleep again so she could perform her energy work when suddenly he gasped and his eyes sprang open, causing Anya to nearly jump out of her chair. She stared at him, wondering what on earth had happened, when he suddenly turned his eyes toward her, and she saw the light of recognition in his eyes for the first time.

            "Anya?" His eyes scrunched up in confusion, wondering why she of all people was there, and so late at night. He looked around as if unaware of his surroundings. "Where are we? Did I fall asleep at the station?" he asked, his voice reflecting his usual brusque manner. "I had a strange dream that someone I knew long ago came back." He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "But that's impossible."

             Anya's heart was galloping in her chest as she realized what had happened. She stood quickly, Slack's eyes darting back to her. "I'm sorry, Slack, but I must be going. You need more sleep, even though your fever's broken. You've been sick this past week, and the fever's been terrible. It's no small wonder you can't remember much, but that's all right. You go to sleep," she said, turning to grab the chair to replace it in the corner of the room again.

            "Anya, wait!" Slack grabbed her arm and stopped her, staring as she stood shaking in her spot. "I've been sick, you say? No wonder I feel awful. But wait, aren't we in my office? I thought—" He looked around again and his eyes widened. "No, this is my house." His eyes darted back to her again. "Why are you in my house?" he demanded then, letting go of her arm.

            She gasped in rage and whirled on him, speaking before she could think better of it. "This is the thanks I get? Four nights of sneaking in here to treat you, and this is what I get? Well, you're welcome! I only saved your life!" she snapped, her voice louder than she meant it to be. He stared at her in bewilderment, and the guilt hit her in a flash just as noises in the bedroom next to her started.

            "What is going on in there?" Anya heard the enraged voice of Sarah as the woman hurried into Slack's room, staring first from Anya and then to Slack.

            "Sarah?" Slack's surprise was the same as when he had first seen the woman in the station days earlier.

            "Johnny? You're feeling better, I see." Was that _disappointment_ Anya heard in the brunette's voice? Sarah's attention turned back to the angel, and her eyes flashed. "You're that little tart from before! What are you doing here? What are you doing to my Johnny?" she yelled, fingers bent into claws, as if she meant to scratch the eyes from Anya's head.

            Anya's anger took hold of her in that instant, and she could feel the spreading of her wings in a threatening fashion as she yelled back at the irrational woman. "I was bringing him back to health, thank you very much. Unlike you! If I hadn't been here, he would have died from that fever! I, as his guardian, cannot let something like that happen, so I've been coming here and treating him while you were asleep." She turned then to the shocked Slack, emotions parading across his face as he fought to understand what all was going on. "You're fine now, Slack. I don't have to worry about you anymore. Goodbye." Her eyes flashed to the brunette woman, and Sarah flinched as if struck at the fury in the angel's brilliant green eyes. "And you had better not do anything to hurt him, Sarah, or I'll be back, and you will feel the full extent of my wrath."

            Sarah started shaking in her rage and raised a fist to strike the angel when suddenly, the blonde disappeared in front of her. She gasped and looked around, but there was no trace of the woman, like she had just vanished into thin air in that instant! She stared at Slack, but he was looking at the place where the blonde had stood, a brooding expression on his face.


End file.
